The Other Stark
by A.S.112
Summary: Cara Howard has a normal life with her single mom, but Cara's IQ is higher than usual. When a night like no other turns her life upside down, she'll have to be sent to the smartest and richest man on the planet. Rated T for mild language.
1. Losses

**A/N:** The characters and how they're displayed in this story is my perception of them. The main plot is from the Iron Man movie but I just added my character in there, so the plot is not a creation of mine. I'd also like to say is that Cara (care-uh) is my alter ego or the smarter version of myself, so how Cara is perceived here is how I perceive myself. Enjoy!

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I'm Carolyn Stark, but it was originally Carolyn Howard. My dad was Chuck Howard and my mom's name is Talia Stark, the insignificant and forgotten sister of the great Tony Stark, the smarter than average, the more brilliant than normal son of Howard Stark. He started Stark Industries and created the Atomic Bomb. My mother was unnoticed by the press and sometimes the family. My grandfather gave no to little notice of my mom. My grandmother was the only one to give her attention. Tony felt guilty to have all the brains of the pair, but soon forgot his guilt when he became engulfed in his own work and successes. My mother had had enough of being treated like she was an undeserving and unintelligent daughter. I mean she was smart, just not Stark smart. So she ran away at night when she was fourteen. She got a job, got an apartment, and went to a public high school. She worked as a cashier at a local food market. She could get discounts on food, and food was her passion back then, preferably pastries.

Then in college where she was studying to become a pastry chef, she met my dad. He wasn't a college student, but he was posing as one to impress my mom. He showed up on a Harley and asked if she wanted to take a ride. But my mom wanted to talk first and they talked every night, meeting at the same spot until my mom said yes to a ride. She was in love. A year and a half later, they got a private marriage and went on their honeymoon on one of the Stark private islands.

Ten months later when they were living in a house in northern California, where they owned a fruit farm so my mom can grow fruit for her homemade pastries, and where they also owned a pastry shop in town, my mom announced to my dad over cherry pie (which is why I don't like cherries) that she was pregnant with me.

At once my dad said incredulously, "What?" but in a way that said "I don't want a baby." My mom looked up at the man she thought she had a connection with. Turns out, as he was packing to leave forever, he really only married her because he recognized that she was a Stark and never really wanted to settle down. My mom thought, _"How could I have been so naïve?" _She was so focused on finally being accepted that she was oblivious to the other possibilities that maybe he never really liked her, but used her for her money. So he left without looking back once, and was never heard from again. My mom was filled with remorse and guilt, knowing that I wouldn't have a father figure to look up to. But she was determined to make it work out for the both of us.

As I grew up, she noticed I was smarter than normal, a true Stark. But it wasn't as drastically smart as her brother, who she hadn't seen for at least ten years. She's been avoiding being a Stark. She even kept her married name. Now when she turns on the TV or sees magazines in stores, she sees her brother's face, saying he's taken the family business now since he turned twenty-one. His face was reminding her of her time at home so she began to avoid those places.

Finally when I was twelve, I was a freshman in high school and creating elaborate designs of cars and engines. By that time, my mom's store closed while it was under her friend's care. We still lived in Northern California, but we moved when the store closed and after we sold all the fruit.

My mom was an intern for a small accounting business and was getting paid twelve dollars an hour for four hours each day working part-time all week, including weekends. We weren't getting enough income to survive and we were feeling desperate. Then I came up with an idea: I'll send one of my car designs to GM, and if they like it they'll pay us a lot of money. If it gets popular, I'll get a bonus depending on the popularity! My mother agreed with the plan and we sent one out to GM. We waited for a response for what seemed like years, but it came in two months. They liked it and wanted permission to use it. So we flew over to Detroit on an already paid for flight to our scheduled meeting. When the CEOs saw a twelve year old girl say she made those designs, they thought I was joking and turned to my mom for permission. But my mom, being honest and fair, said that I really did make the designs, and I showed them the designs on my laptop. They looked like they still didn't believe me, but went along with it anyway. They asked permission, named a price that sounded reasonable (and I think two thousand dollars for a design is sufficient), then my mom and I left the meeting with a check in my hands.

When I was fourteen and a junior in high school, my mom decided to walk to the market. It was getting a little dark out so she wanted to take a shortcut down an alley. From what I heard, there were two drunk guys in the alley and they surrounded my mom. She pulled out her pepper spray but they knocked it out her hand. So she tried to run back and speed-dialed me at home. I answered on the first ring and she said in a frightened voice, "Nine-one-one! Call nine-one-one!" Then I heard the scream that I'd never forget until the day I died. Then the line went dead. I didn't know it then, but someone, probably the drunk men, had crushed her cell phone. Starting to panic, I fumbled with the phone and dialed nine-one-one with trembling fingers. Someone answered and asked what the emergency was. I said with a quivering voice, "Something's wrong with my mom. She told me to call nine-one-one. I don't know what happened—"

"Calm down, honey." the woman said, trying to be soothing, "Where is she right now?"

"I don't know," I said hysterically, "She was on her way to the market-"

"That's all we need to know." She told me and hung up.

The first thing I did was sit down, dropping the phone next to me. All I could hear was her scream. It is and always will be the worst sound I ever heard.

_I have to do something_, I thought. I ran to the garage, grabbed my bike and raced to the streets of the small town. It took five minutes to get to town and from there I could hear the sirens. I pedaled faster, my heart beating against my throat. I found the ambulances by an alley half a block from the market, but there was more than just ambulances. There were police cars, media vans and an entire crowd of people surrounding something.

I practically jumped off my bike and sprinted to the crowd. I could hear some murmurs and some people asking, "Who could have done such a thing?"

I didn't like the way they said that. I pushed through the crowd, forgetting my manners. My heart now felt like it would burst out of my torso. I got to the front and couldn't comprehend what I saw.

My mother's face was unrecognizable, and the blood…

I was dreaming. I had to be. This can't be happening. It can't be real. But wait—I remember waking up this morning…

She can't be. No. This isn't true! This isn't fair! She can't be…gone…forever.

I fell to my knees, not being able to withstand the pressure surrounding me, choking me. The ground caved in below me, my world crashing around, along with the nameless faces closing in on me.

I felt cold; all the blood rushed from my face. I felt my tears fall, burning hot down my face. I started to sob, barely breathing.

Everything was a blur, like I was in a trance. I answered everything in a monotone, without thinking. I moved to where they told me to and answered to whatever they asked, but my mind was elsewhere.

_What's going to happen to me? _I thought about repeatedly. _Where will I go? Mom said that she's an only child and my dad is nowhere to be found. Do I have to go to an orphanage in some other city? I need answers!_

Eventually, the police took me to my house to find her will. I showed them the office, still wrapped in my thoughts. They found it in the bottom drawer of her desk. I heard a policewoman say something.

"Sweetheart?" she said to me.

I looked up, coming back to the present. I didn't know she was speaking to me at first.

"You should get some rest," she said looking at me with concern and sympathy.

I only nodded. My voice felt like it was rusty from lack of use. I turned around and slowly walked to my room. I got in bed without even bothering to change into my pajamas. I couldn't close my eyes; they were still wet. But I tried to go to sleep, because in the back of my mind, I knew I should get some rest.

While I was falling asleep, I knew, deep down, that from now on my life would be changed in ways that I could have never conceived of before.


	2. Truth

I woke up at around eight o' clock. For the first few seconds I was content. I pulled the bed sheets off me and was puzzled; I wasn't in my pajamas. I was in my day clothes.

At that moment, everything that happened the day before rushed back to me like a slap in the face. _My mom is dead…_

I just wanted to pull the covers back over me and stay there until someone found me. But I knew that I had to get up and eat and move around. Besides, my mom wouldn't want me to be a hermit. She'd want me to live life.

I opened my door and walked out of my room, suddenly very awake. I dragged my feet down the hallway to the living room and I stopped at the doorway. What I saw scared me for a minute; there were a bunch of people sitting in the living room, but they were just policemen and women.

I took a deep breath. _Relax_, I thought to myself. I noticed that I was very tense, so I relaxed those muscles, still taking deep breaths.

When I walked in the room, everyone went silent and stopped moving. All their eyes were upon me. It was like a room filled with solemn faced statues.

It was silent for a while until I finally said lightly, "Good morning, officers. May I have permission to cross the room for breakfast, please?" I smiled with my eyebrows raised.

No one responded, until a policewoman, the one I recognized from last night, said in the same manner as me, "Good morning, and yes, you may have permission to cross the room. I have donuts here."

Everything in the room felt like it was finally releasing the carbon dioxide kept in their lungs for the past five minutes. All the authorities went back to their conversations, drinking coffee and chomping on jelly-filled donuts and sesame bagels.

I walked across the room, to the left of the U-shaped sectional couch which faced the TV right by the doorway to the hallway, to the black marble counter piled with donut boxes, coffee cups, plates, and napkins. The policewoman smiled at me and said, "Take your pick. You can have as many as you want."

"Oh," I said smiling, "I don't think I can eat more than two. I'm not really hungry. But I will have a cinnamon-powdered one." I snatched a donut especially covered in cinnamon and sugar. I got settled on a bar stool chair and was about to take a big chunk of delectable deep-fried goodness. I sighed, "Silly me. I forgot milk." I grabbed a cup, poured some milk, and I put the jug back in the stainless steel fridge. I settled down again with my glass of milk and was going to try to eat my donut again, but I stopped, then put my donut down and leaned back in my chair. I looked at the policewoman and said, "Okay. I need to know. How long, exactly, were all of you here? Because I don't think I can digest this properly without knowing. Were you guys here all night? Did you guys check up on me when I was sleeping?"

She let out a short laugh, "No we didn't check on you when you were sleeping." She paused. "We just set a perimeter around the house." She said this kind of quickly and with a solemn face that said she was embarrassed to be saying this.

I just looked at her. "Was that really necessary?" I said incredulously. "Did you think I was gonna make a break for it in the dead of night?"

"We had to make precaution!" she said in her defense. "Besides, we didn't know what you might do with your mother…gone and all." She observed me a little to see if she said the wrong thing. I could tell she didn't want to be insensitive about it.

I just took a slow breath to steady myself. _I'm _not_ going to cry in front of the cops._

She just took it as an annoyance sigh. "I'm sorry about that." She said apologetically. "We're the police. It's our job to protect people, even if it's embarrassing."

"No, it's okay." I said hurriedly. "I don't want you feel bad; it's not your fault. I just wanted to know…and if any of you checked on me last night, then it would have been a little weird, because you didn't need to do that." I turned back to my donut but turned back just as fast. "What's your name, officer?"

"I'm Lieutenant Gibson," she said, "but you can call me Bailey."

"I'll just call you Lieutenant because I don't feel privileged enough to call you by your first name." I said uncomfortably. "Sorry."

"That's okay." she replied. "No need to apologize. You can call me anything you want." She said in a more authoritative tone, "You should eat something now. You're going to be leaving soon."

I almost choked on my donut. I coughed, and said in a composed tone, "Could you repeat that, please?"

She laughed, "I said 'You're going to be leaving soon.'"

"To where?"

"A two o' clock flight was made to Malibu. That's where you're going to be staying until you're eighteen. You'll stay with your uncle until you can claim all the things her mother left you."

I just stared at her. "You lost me at 'uncle.'" _What is she talking about?_ I thought. _I don't _have_ an uncle!_

"Don't you have an uncle in Malibu?" she asked with a slightly confused look on her face.

"No…at least…I don't think so." I was so confused. Do_ I have an uncle? Mom told me she was an only child…_

Gibson finally said, "You need to see the will."

I followed her to my mom's office, leaving my unfinished donut and milk on the counter. We walked down the hall and to the first door and the left. On the desk, there were was a letter and an envelope. She lifted the letter off the desk and handed it to me. She said, "This is her will. In the beginning, it just says that everything would go to you when you become of age. Then it said she would want her brother, Tony Stark, to take care of you until then."

_Tony Stark? _I thought._ The head of Stark Industries that makes all those amazingly high-tech but extremely dangerous weapons? He's her _brother_?!_ I wanted to say all of this, but all that came out was, "Huh?" which I felt stupid about afterward. I speed-read through the will, and there it was.

"We can't deny the requests of a will." she stated. "It's better to send you to him as soon as possible." She gave me a look. "Are you positive you didn't know about Tony Stark being your uncle?"

"Yeah." I said, nodding. "She never told me anything about a brother. She told me she was an only child." I sighed. "But whatever the reason was for her not telling me, it must not be good. Or maybe she didn't want me to turn snooty or something if I knew my uncle was rich and famous. I mean…it makes sense that I'm related to him: I'm two years ahead of my age. I knew something was different about me. I think the genius-like brains skipped over a generation, which was my mom."

"There's another letter you have to read," she said picking up the envelope. "This is addressed to you."

She held it out for me. It said, "To Cara, when I have passed on."

I opened it carefully, my heart beating rapidly. I unfolded to piece of paper and looked at it. It was written in her handwriting. It said:

_Cara,_

_I haven't been entirely truthful to you. And when you read it, I hope you don't think of me badly. If you do, I'm sorry that I had to tell you like this. I wish it wasn't this complicated. _

_The truth is that I'm not an only child. I have a brother. He's Tony Stark. I haven't been on speaking terms with him lately. It was very uncomfortable. When I lived with my parents, I was underappreciated by my father. After he realized I wasn't as brilliant as his first-born, he was disappointed and upset with me always. Nothing I did satisfied him because it wasn't up to his standards. But Tony's work was always great and my father was always pleased with what he did. My mother was the only one to give me a shoulder to cry on and love to cure me of my father's cruelty. Tony wasn't much comfort. I could tell he felt guilty, but he had his own goals to achieve. _

_One day, I got sick of it. It was too much for me to handle. I sneaked out in the middle of the night when I was fourteen. I lived my own life. I did whatever I want when I wanted. I finished high school got a job at a grocery store and saved enough for college. But I wasn't happy, I was lonely. I wasn't the talkative one so I never got much attention from anyone, and I always looked depressed._

_Then I met your father. He was so handsome. He arrived on a Harley and stopped right in front me. I had to talk to him, so I did. His voice was as sweet as honey. We met everyday at the same spot. I finally accepted the ride he had offered me in the beginning, and my life flourished._

_You know how he left, so I won't repeat it. I don't know how Tony will react to you. He never liked things that were out of his control. He knows that I found a life because I called him before you were born. Please, don't blame him for my pain._

_I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I was too afraid of my past and I kept running away from it, never truly meeting it face-to-face. Just remember this: Don't ever run away from your fears, because if you just keep running, you'll never conquer them. That's a lesson I learned to late._

_I hope you know already that I'll always love you, whether you do or not. Again, I'm sorry._

_All my love,_

_Your mother, Talia Stark

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_

I couldn't think. Tears were about to pour, but I blinked them back. I folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. _I'm going to keep it as a reminder to the wrongs I had to make right._ I thought, a new determination filled my veins. _I'm going to do what my mother couldn't: I'm going to face my fears. If Tony doesn't approve of me, that's not my problem. I'm just going to be with him for four years. What could go wrong?_

"Are you okay?" Gibson asked with concern.

I looked up and smiled reassuringly. "Yes." I said, determined. "I'm going to be better than okay. I'll make sure of it."

She looked at me impressed that I was taking my mother's death so well.

"I'll finish eating then start packing." I told her.

I left the room, very prepared for the events ahead.


	3. Introductions

**A/N: **I want to thank the people who took the time to make reviews for my first story. It's much appreciated. Seriously, it makes my day! If any one reading this story has time to type a review, I would be forever grateful if you did type one. The more opinions, the better! Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

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It took an hour to get to the Redding Municipal Airport. I was driving in the back of Lieutenant Gibson's police car, along with half the police force in the county. My luggage was packed in the trunk. My carry-on bag was in the seat next to me. It contained my laptop, my "Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief" book, my Nintendo DS Lite, and my iPod nano--all things I paid for with my own hard-earned money raking lawns and shoveling snow--along with miscellaneous things like Chap Stick and a sweat jacket.

I was particularly annoyed at the time with the whole police escort thing. It was bringing so much unwanted attention. I've had several people glance at me repeatedly, probably wondering if I was a criminal that would pull out a gun and shoot them. But at least we got their quickly by being able to pass through traffic with ease and ignoring stop lights and signs. As we passed some random middle-aged man driving a Toyota, I made my hand in a gun with all my fingers curled except my thumb and my index finger. I pretended to pull the "trigger" on him. His face was priceless. I knew it was a little immature, but I had to laugh at some people's over-reactions. I mean, I'm a completely normal looking fourteen year-old girl; Is that what a criminal looks like now? I must not have gotten the memo.

Gibson, along with three other officers, came in with me into the airport to make sure everything was organized, as well as escort me to my flight. They were trying to be less conspicuous, but people still stared. Security was ridiculous, even with Gibson—but heck, it's always ridiculous. I didn't take me any time at all to get through, but the cops with me did. Airport Security had to check their ID about eleven times, along with all their licenses to have guns and tazers; I'm not kidding. Their police badges were checked repeatedly too. Luckily, I got to my flight just in time; they were about to close the doors. I found that my seat was in First Class. I thought that was so nice of them, but I could never thank them for that until four years later.

Sitting in First Class made the flight great: the aisle seat next to me was empty and everything was quiet. The only people there were wealthy businessmen and women, and they generally just read TIME magazines and worked on their laptops.

I didn't want to work on my designs at that time: those were confidential. I just looked like a normal teenager listening to my iPod and playing games on my DS. I read my well-worn book, which I've read four times before, for a little while, and got some well-deserved sleep on a pillow and blanket the attendants had given me at the beginning of the flight.

It only took an hour or so to get to LAX. To my surprise, a couple people offered assistance getting my luggage off from the baggage claim when it was apparent I needed help. I took it gratefully. They wondered where my parents were. I lied, saying my parents were waiting outside. I felt guilty afterward, and thought about how much I wished it _were _true, and imagined that both of my parents were waiting for me outside the doors of the impressive airport.

Instead, by a yellow taxi, there was a guy holding a sign that said "Carolyn Howard". The taxi driver was about thirty years old and looked pretty average, not someone you notice when passing them. I walked up to him and introduced to him that I was Carolyn Howard. It was obvious by his face that I was not who he was expecting. I couldn't blame him; most people don't ever expect to be driving a fourteen year old without adult supervision on any given day. He put my luggage in the trunk, except for my carry-on, and opened the back seat door for me. I smiled at him, hoping he would relax a little; he seemed so tense. I said thank you for being a gentleman. He seemed to lighten up at that. He smiled sincerely, nodded, and closed the door behind me.

"Do you already know where to go?" I asked him when he was in the driver's seat.

"It's Tony Stark's residence, correct?" he checked.

"Yes." I said with a smile and short nod.

He just nodded and started driving out of the airport.

"Is this your first time in the Los Angeles area?" he inquired when we were nearly to Malibu.

"Yeah," I answered. "I used to live up by Redding up north. I have never left that area except on a trip to Detroit."

There was a short pause as if he was thinking of what to say. "May I ask why you are going to Tony Stark's residence?" he asked while looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"He's my uncle." I said simply.

I could tell just by in the rearview mirror that he was very surprised. He didn't say anything for a half an hour until we were going down a street lined with palm trees.

"Welcome to Malibu." he stated with a smile.

The buildings we passed were of the most beautifully sculpted architecture that I had ever laid eyes on. It looked almost like Los Angeles, but it seemed somewhat cleaner.

_I'm going to be living _here_ for _four years! I thought. _If am able to leave the house, I could be in the gorgeous weather and actually get a decent tan._

Compared to all these people walking in tank tops, shorts and sandals, I looked like a ghost. They, on the other hand, looked like they were dipped in cooking oil to get a golden, crisp tan.

Then I saw it: the house that I'd be living in until I turned eighteen. It was perched on a low rocky mountain top, overlooking the ocean. In other words, a house with a view!

But what I was truly amazed about was the building itself: It was so modern looking... and curvy... and _huge_! Even now, I can barely describe it. It's too complicated for words.

We climbed the low hill into a tunnel leading up to the house. We went in it, driving smoothly as it curved gently upward. After a little while, I finally saw an opening into a large, garage-like room. Except it was more than just a garage.

It was like the Batcave. It was a tall room that got lower the farther you moved in. There were about eight computers monitors on a wrap-around table with a comfortable-looking chair in the middle of it. In the back of the room, there were tables stacked with machinery where it was to the point of overflowing. In a corner, there was an enormous HDTV with a leather couch and coffee table in front of it. There was a bunch of other electronics lying around, but I was really looking at was the five exotic cars parked in front of the entrance.

Oh. My. Goodness. Each one was worth over five hundred thousand dollars! There was a Saleen S7, an Audi R8, a classic Shelby Cobra, probably sixties, and a Tesla roadster that wasn't even being sold yet. There was one more: it was a beautifully painted Ford Roadster from the thirties, and behind the engine was the American playboy himself: Tony Stark.

He barely looked up when the taxi pulled in. It was like he wasn't even interested to see what trespassed in his house. I got out of the car with my bag and slammed the door to try to make him look up and…nothing.

The taxi driver got out of the taxi and asked permission to take out my bags. I took a minute to answer because I was still staring at the top of Tony Stark's neatly groomed head. _Is he ignoring me, or is he just distracted? Does he even know I'm here?_ I thought while I gave the driver permission to take my bags out of the trunk. He took them out, said a farewell and drove his taxi out the garage/workshop/Batcave. I waved goodbye to the driver and turned toward my uncle. He still didn't look up.

I didn't want to stand here all day until he noticed me, so I took a breath and walked slowly toward him, rolling my luggage along with me. I crossed this black grid on the floor and circled the table of computers until I was on the other side of the engine from him, looking at the top of his head.

I only stood there for what seemed like hours. I didn't know what to say. "Hi" sounded lame at the time. I don't know if it was the fact that he was a long lost relative I never meet, the smartest and wealthiest man to live so far, or both, but something about him intimidated me so it left me thinking anything I say was going to sound stupid. I didn't know anything about this guy. I didn't know how he looked (because I've never seen a picture of him despite his wealth and popularity), how he talked, how I was supposed to live with this guy if he's not going to say anything to me...; I didn't have a clue.

I was racking my brain furiously when sounds actually came out of his mouth. Without looking up from his work, he inquired in an uninterested tone, "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

It was funny how he said "house" like it wasn't perched on a low mountain. He said it like he lived on one of those cookie-cutter streets where all the houses look the same.

"I'm your niece." I said carefully.

He never stopped working but I could tell he was thinking. "Why did she send you here?" he asked in the same tone before.

I'm guessing "she" would be my mom, so I replied, "She wants me to stay here until I turned eighteen. That's what it said in her will."

He got the hint at "will", and he stopped tinkering with his engine. He practically froze for a minute, and I could almost see the gears in his head spinning rapidly.

I almost jumped when he got up. I fell back a step, finally seeing his face. He was really handsome, like Robert Downey Jr.-handsome. He had dark brown hair like my mom and a beard that I have never seen before on any other person.

He walked past me to a futuristic looking console on the desk and tapped it. "Miss Potts come down here quickly." he said to it.

"Why? What's wrong?" a woman's voice answered through it.

"We have company." He responded.

He stood there waiting with his back to me. I hate it when people ignore me and talk about me when I'm standing _right there_, and that's exactly what he was doing. This guy was _not_ making a good first impression. Heck, he wasn't even _trying_.

Then I saw someone walking down the open stairs that were behind glass walls, which I hadn't noticed before. The woman was wearing a no-nonsense business jacket and a pencil skirt along with heels. She was carrying a clipboard, and at that moment I guessed that she was an assistant--specifically, Tony's assistant. Her red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and she had a nice posture. She was very pretty, but sophisticated and intelligent-looking--not like the type of girls I heard Tony usually hung out with.

She typed a code on a keypad that appeared on the glass wall and walked through a transparent door that opened with a beep. She gave a brief glance at me before stopping a few feet from Tony and said in a polite fashion, "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Give the girl standing right behind me the guest room," he replied.

_Okay,_ I thought outrageously, _first you ignore me, now you won't even bother to learn my name?! _I clenched my jaw. _Ugh! This guy is _infuriating_! He doesn't even care about me or the fact that my mother is _dead_! _I tried so hard not to cry; I cry whenever I'm mad or sad or just upset. Right at that moment, I felt all of those feelings.

Miss Potts gave Tony a slightly confused look. He muttered something like, "I'll tell you later."

His assistant looked at me, smiled and said, "Come with me. I'll show you around. You can leave your bags here. I'll get them after you're in your room."

I put my luggage by one of the tables full of electronics so it would be out of the way. I only took my carry-on bag with me and followed Miss Potts to the stairs. The glass door closed behind me, and as I was walking up the stairs I looked back at Tony Stark. He was already back to work on his engine. He never looked at me _once_.

I sighed. _These years are going to be long,_ I thought. _I can feel it.  
_


	4. Inside Tour

**A/N: **Since swim is over for me, I'll be able to get more chapters out in less time. I know all of you are probably getting tired of waiting forever but you can't rush perfection, or at least decency. Enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to make a review!

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As I was walking up the open steps, I heard a fountain to my left. I looked beyond Miss Potts to a room and my jaw dropped slightly, but I was still shocked.

The architecture was unbelievable. To be frank, it was freckin' awesome! The rooms were circular and open. On the left wall, it was all glass with an absolutely gorgeous view of the beaches. In the room by the biggest window I've ever seen, there was a circular coffee table with wooden balls that I think were seats and a couch partially wrapped around it. There was also a tall hang-over lamp. Directly ahead of me were a few steps that lead to a grand piano.

Miss Potts turned toward me and said politely with her hand stretched out, "I'm Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's assistant."

I took her hand and shook it. "I'm Carolyn Howard, but you can call me Cara," I said with a sincere smile.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cara." Pepper smiled back. "That's a unique name, and it's very beautiful."

I lighted up at the compliment. "Thank you," I said smiling wide.

Pepper released my hand and inquired, "May I ask what relations you have with Mr. Stark?"

"I'm his niece." I said slowly, slightly embarrassed. I think it's because she was the third person to ask why I'm here.

"I see…" she said slowly while observing me, probably trying to see a resemblance between Tony and me. I could tell she wanted to ask how I came to be his niece, but held her tongue. She knew that Tony would explain later.

"This is the living room." Pepper said lightly, changing the subject. "Mr. Stark and Mr. Stane conduct business here."

"Who's Mr. Stane?" I inquired.

She gave me a quick, disbelieving "You don't know?" look, but caught herself and erased it from her expression in exchange for a stoic face. "Obadiah Stane is Mr. Stark's business partner for Stark Industries. He has just as much control over the company as Mr. Stark does."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid. "I don't know anything about him or Tony. My mom never even told me she had a brother." I looked at her, embarrassed.

"Oh." She said, also looking embarrassed. Her cheeks were turning red. "I'm sorry. I was suspecting you would already know about everything. I mean, he is your mother's brother. But if you look at it from your mother's point-of-view, I suppose it makes sense."

Wanting to change the subject again, I asked, "Does Tony play piano?" because it seemed highly unlikely. He didn't strike me as the musical type.

"No, he doesn't." she said with an amused smile. "It's just for looks, like most of the things around here."

I had a feeling she meant something other than the décor, but I didn't dwell on it; we left the room quickly for the rest of the tour, so I was a tad distracted with the architecture.

When we came to a smaller room than the living room: three quarters of the wall was transparent glass, presenting the crystal-blue ocean. I thought it was another sitting room.

"This is the TV room." Pepper said.

I looked at her, confused. "Where's the TV?" I asked. "Not having one kind of defeats the purpose of the 'TV' room. But the view is gorgeous." I tried to compromise the negative comment with a positive one. I didn't want to seem like a pessimistic person.

Pepper walked past me to a console on a glass coffee table and pressed a button on the screen of it.

Suddenly, an image appeared on the huge window: the news channel was on, with an anchorwoman talking about the crime rate. The picture was crystal-clear and the detail was better than I've seen on any LCD or plasma television in my life. It didn't show any translucency from the window itself; it looked completely solid.

"Wow." was all I could manage. The technology in this place was _incredible_. It blew me away how Tony could build these things, much more on how he _thought_ of building them.

Pepper looked at me and smiled. "It tends to amaze me, every now and then, how high-tech Tony made everything, but I don't think of it most of the time since I'm here everyday." She turned off the "TV" and led me to the staircase. "I'll show you your room now."

To the right of the staircase was a fountain. It was a bumpy glass wall with water flowing down the side to splash onto polished rock. There was a simple art piece on top of the rocks.

The open steps circled to the left and above the first set of steps that lead back down to the first floor. I followed Pepper up the steps where the bedrooms were. The steps made me nervous: there wasn't a handrail so I kept my balance while looking at Pepper's back. I felt like I was going to trip the entire time.

_Tony apparently doesn't think of safety,_ I thought, just then figuring it out. _The weapons he produces are the first clue._

We got to the top of the stairs and I was looking at a long hallway. Pepper escorted me down it. We stopped at the last door before it turned left into another corridor. I looked down the other hallway curiously. The entire right wall was a glass window. At the end of the hallway was a wide metal door with an electronic lock on the side of the door.

I heard a door slide open to the right of me; Pepper had opened a sliding metal door similar to the one at the end of the other hallway, but this one had a normal-sized width. I looked through the doorway and back at her, silently asking her if I could go in. She smiled and nodded, giving me permission.

I looked at the room again, and walked steadily into it. _This where I was going to sleep and just relax? _I thought excitedly. _Yes!_

The room was a great size; it was about sixteen by eighteen. The entire left wall was glass, just like the one in the hallway. The view of the ocean was always breath-taking for me, and this view sure emptied my lungs! There was a queen-sized bed facing me, and I grinned. I had never slept on anything bigger than a twin before.

Across from the bed was a low, wide two-shelf metal bookcase, and above it was a fifty-inch LCD HDTV with a Blu-Ray player hanging on the wall.

_Drat, _I thought. _I have to change all my DVDs to Blu-Ray now. I'm glad Blu-Ray's available though! _

Along with the bookcase and TV, there was a four drawer dresser that didn't have any handles on the right wall.

_How I'm I supposed to open them, a remote? _Then I noticed the remote was on top of the dresser. _Duh, _I thought stupidly to myself. Sometimes I don't notice those tiny but obvious details, despite my IQ, unless I force myself to pay close attention.

To the right of the dresser, was a double sliding metal door with no handles. _Is everything remote controlled? _I pondered. I looked at the two night stands on each side of the bed and—what do you know—there were no handles. _That would be a "yes"._

Above each night stand was a modern wall light, but there were no light switches in sight. _There's probably _another_ button on the remote that turns those on. _

Past the dresser, there was another sliding metal door in the far right corner of the room. I strode toward the door, and it opened as I came to a halt a foot away from it. I glanced inside, and it was a roomy bathroom. There was marble flooring and tan painted walls along with a long tan marble sink top. On the ceiling was a window channeling light fully into the room. The sink cabinet under the sink was made of cherry wood. The shower was made of beige marble with a bunch of shower heads on two walls with a waterproof Bose radio.

_Nice touch, _I thought. There was also a mirror stretching the length of the sink, so I looked at my reflection.

I fixed my medium-length dark-brown hair that I usually tied back so I can work. I had my hair down as I was looking in the mirror. I wear it down when I'm trying to make a good impression. I looked at my chocolate-brown eyes. My mother always said how they seemed endless, that they traveled to my very soul and showed all who I truly was. She said that whoever took the time to look deep enough, then that's when they really, truly cared about me and they'll learn that caring for me is a gift, not a chore. I never really believed her, but she said she knows from experience. I always left the subject at that.

_If I really do have that charm, how come it's never worked before?_ I reflected. I always tried to talk to others in my advanced grade and learn more about them, but every time they ask how old I was and automatically judge me by that. It was like talking to a younger was gonna make everyone else think they were "lame" or "un-cool". The only people who've respected me in school were my teachers, who noticed my intelligence without any boasting, and my respect for others. They seemed like the only ones who cared about how I felt, everyday asking "How are you?" I realized early on that I'm simply more mature than all these adolescents, but thinking this didn't make going through school five days per week any better. I've never truly belonged anywhere except at home. With home gone, I hoped that I could belong here in some way.

_I mean, my uncle has a higher IQ too. I'd think that we'd be at least somewhat alike_—I stared at my reflection angrily—_but that didn't work out according to plan. I have no home now; I don't belong here either._

I turned away from my reflection, along with the grievous thoughts polluting the contentment and serenity of my mind. I took a deep breath through my nose and released the air from my mouth, getting myself back in the content state-of-mind. I didn't want Pepper to be worried.

I walked back out into the room, saw Pepper waiting patiently in the doorway, and smiled. "This room is…amazing!" I said gratefully. "I can't even find the right adjectives to describe it! Thank you, for everything." I paused. "I hope I'm not a distraction or bother to either of you—"

Pepper stopped me short with a shocked expression. "No! No, no, no." She gave a comforting smile. "You're not a distraction, really. It's…complicated." She sighed. "You weren't exactly expected. We had no notification of your arrival."

"They never called you?" I asked, surprised. _Officer Gibson gave me a First Class ride, a taxi ride, but never called the person I was going to stay with? I guess they forgot, or didn't know how to contact a billionaire._

She shook her head. "We never got a phone call. They could've called the company."

I shrugged a little. "I guess it was just simpler this way. No confusions of my identity." I looked at her and could tell that she was still troubled by my upbringing. I looked at her questionably. "He really never told you that he had a sister?"

She knit her eyebrows like she was trying to remember. "It was so long ago, almost fifteen years ago." She thought for a moment. "I remember there was someone who called Tony's cell; they somehow got his number. He didn't answer and they left a message. While I was in the room, he replayed his messages out loud. There was one voicemail whose voice I didn't recognize: it was a woman. She said how she'd found a husband and is living happily. She also said how she's proud of him and where he's come. She wished him a happy life." She looked up from her flashback. "He never told me who it was, saying it was unimportant. But he tried to trace back the number from its source. He found out that the woman called from a pay phone." She looked at me more closely. "Was your mother the one that called?"

I swallowed before I spoke. "Yes." I glanced down for a moment, then looked back at her again. "She called him before I was born. She told me in a letter that was written to me for when she passed." I turned away and looked over the ocean, trying to hold back the newborn tears blurring my vision. It's been getting harder and harder to hold the overflow. _One of these days, I'm going to cry in front of a bunch of strangers without being able to stop, embarrassing myself in the face of the general public. But they don't know what I've been through, or what I'm _still_ going through._ I closed my eyes. _There I go again. I can't keep thinking like this. I can't keep looking where I've been, because I'll miss the attractions passing me. _My mom's advice eased through my metaphorical ears. _Don't miss the events of life, because you only get one chance to see them. _

I breathed deeply through my nasal passages only, calming my heart rate somewhat, and opened my eyes, tears successfully restrained. I turned back to Pepper, who wore a sympathetic expression, and smiled gently, trying to say that I was fine without using words.

She didn't say anything, probably because she didn't know what to say. I didn't blame her; what would you say to a teenager who you barely knew and they started crying in front of you? Nothing really comes to mind.

So I decided to change the subject; I didn't like gloomy topics of conversation. They made me feel sad. "May I go get my bags or am I not allowed to be down there?" I asked.

Pepper looked grateful for the topic change. "It'll be better if I go down there; I have a lot to discuss with Mr. Stark." She seemed a little angry. I would be angry too if my friend didn't tell me he had a sibling.

"I'll be right back with your bags." Pepper smiled sincerely, turned, and walked toward the stairs, the door sliding closed behind her.


	5. Restrictions

**A/N: **I think my story is doing so well! I've been very happy with it and have been working on it for all of you to see as fast as possible! Thank you all for taking the time to read my story! I appreciate everyone who has reviewed, set a story alert for my story, put my story as one of their favorites, or just read it! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

I looked around my room once again, still not truly believing this was "mine". I set my carry-on messenger bag on the bed to start organizing. I emptied the contents completely and set it on the comforter: my laptop, my DS and its case, my iPod nano, my sweat jacket, and my "Percy Jackson" book.

I set my laptop on the right side of the bookcase, with care, and I placed my DS and book on the night stand on the right side of the bed.

Next, I took to small remote off the dresser and looked at the buttons. There was a total of seven buttons: Four were circled vertically, two were circled horizontally, and one that took up two spaces across. I pressed the long button, and the closet doors slid open smoothly.

I walked up to it and looked inside: There was a long metal pole to hang all your clothes, along with a shelf above it. On the pole were mahogany wood hangers. I hung my sweat jacket on one of these and push it to the right side of the closet. I grabbed my carry-on and reached up easily to set it on the shelf in the closet.

Everything was put in its place, so I plopped on the bed, exhausted from the long day's events. I sank right into the bed extremely comfortably.

_Whoa. _I thought. _It's like lying on a cloud!_ I bounced on it experimentally, starting to grin widely. I laid all the way back on the bed.

_Oh my goodness. This is amazing! I think this is one of those Temper-Pedic beds! I've always wanted to try these out!_ I had a spontaneous thought. _I _gotta_ try the wine glass test!_ I remembered a scene from "Yes Man" with Jim Carrey; he got a Temper-Pedic bed and did the wine glass test. He was jumping and shuffling on the bed to try and tip it, but it never tipped, so he cried out, "It works!"

I laughed out loud at the random memory; that movie was hilarious. While I was finishing my laugh, the door slid open. I sat up straight abruptly, fixing my hair. Pepper strode in with one hand pulling on my rolling luggage, and another hand keeping her clipboard clutched to her chest. She laid it down in the middle of the carpet, and walked back to the door. She turned toward me and asked, "Would that be all?"

I nodded and smiled simply.

"Then I'll leave you to un-pack." Pepper stated politely. She returned the nod-and-smile gesture and walked out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her.

_Okay. _I thought to myself, rubbing my hands together. _Let's get this over with._

Un-zipping the luggage, I started the organizing.

First, the clothes: socks and undergarments in the top drawer of dresser; shirts, summer on left side of second drawer, winter on right side; pajamas and sweats in third drawer, pj's on upper side, sweats on lower side; pants in last drawer, shorts, capris, and then pants from left to right side of drawer.

_Part one: finished._ I thought, satisfied with the almost-empty suitcase. _Now, my DVDs and books…_

I took out the piles of my favorite movies and books from the suitcase and dropped them on my bed, laying them out over the comforter. I started with the books: I grabbed the pile of "Percy Jackson & the Olympians" series off the bed and carried them to the bookcase. I set them in chronological order on the first shelf. I did this routine for all my other books: the "Harry Potter" series and "A Series of Unfortunate Events". The rest I put on the second shelf: the "Uglies" trilogy, and the "Inheritance Cycle".

I grabbed all my DVDs and put them on the right side of the bottom shelf: "Transformers", "The Nightmare before Christmas", "Finding Nemo", "WALL-E", "Bruce Almighty", and "The Phantom of the Opera".

I checked my luggage again to see if I missed anything. In a far corner of the suitcase, I found a picture frame. It was the most recent picture of my mom and me: I was holding the camera so it pointed at both of us. We were just goofing around on the couch, making funny faces.

_Why? _I thought sadly, staring at her picture. _Why were you taken from me so quickly? What was the reason for your death? If it was to meet my uncle, there was no point; he won't talk to me._ I sighed as new tears were born. _You were my best friend…_

That time, I didn't even try to refrain from crying; I needed to let my emotions out for once. Tear droplets formed on the picture glass; I wiped it off with the hem of my shirt. I stood up and placed it on top of the dresser where I could easily see it. I stared at it for one more minute, thinking about how much fun I had with her, all the while avoided thinking about what I won't be able to do with her.

I turned away from it and walked to bathroom to clean off my face; it felt like it was on fire. I didn't look at my face in the mirror as I came to a stop in front of the ornate sink; I hate seeing myself when I cry.

I snatched a washcloth from the sink countertop, soaked it under cold water, and squeezed the extra water out, placing it over my entire face. I sat on the toilet blindly, finding the seat. I felt my face's and eyes' swelling decrease while I pondered of happier thoughts than more recent events.

I finally walked out of the bathroom, successfully calmed down.

_Stay in the present or think of the future only,_ I noted to myself,_ at least for the time being. The past is just making me cry too much._

I glanced down at my assumedly-empty luggage. I grasped the handle with one hand and the other end of the luggage with the other hand and lifted it up until it was high enough to reach the shelf of the open closet. The luggage wasn't even on the shelf when I heard the door slide open.

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed. "Do you need help?"

I heard her pacing toward me. "No." I said with a little strain. "I can do it."

I deposited the luggage on the shelf, grabbed the remote off the dresser, and pressed the long closet button and watched the closet doors shut quietly.

"Thanks for offering." I told her, smiling sweetly. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Um, yes." She said, still disbelieving that I could lift that much weight.

"Weight lifting classes at school." I explained, noticing her disbelief.

"Oh." Pepper said in understanding, nodding. "Well, I came to inform you that we're leaving to go to the Apogee Award Ceremony in Las Vegas. We'll be back by morning." She paused, looking a little embarrassed. "Mr. Stark says everything with a need for a code is off-limits. If you try to open any doors with electronic locks on it, Jarvis—the system that runs the house—will report you to him. Now, _I_ believe that you would never even try to do something like that, but what he says, goes. I'm terribly sorry."

"Does he think I'm five?" I asked incredulously, angry.

Pepper pursed her lips, but I was on a roll. "I have not wronged him in any way. I haven't even had time to! And why would I in the first place? The fact that he's a genius and a _billionaire_ is enough to keep me from leaving this room. I"--I laid a hand on my heart--"am personally afraid to touch anything. So tell him he doesn't need to worry about me at all. I'm perfectly capable of knowing where I'm supposed to be and what I'm not allowed to do. I know my place." I sighed, finished ranting. "I'm sorry for complaining to you but, apparently, he doesn't want to talk or look at me. I hope you can understand."

Pepper closed her eyes and shook her head, smiling in bemusement. "I don't know why he's acting like this to you. I agree; he has no reason to treat you like he is. I'll try and talk to him, but I doubt it'll change anything; he can be stubborn."

"Good night." She smiled and strode out, the door sliding closed, cutting me off from the real world in the process.

I looked out the glass wall the seemingly endless ocean, feeling like it was going to come in and wash me away.

_I wish it would._ I thought sadly. _Maybe it could take me to some place better, and get me out of this jail._

I sat on my bed, thoroughly depressed.

_I need my music._ I stated in my mind.

When I'm upset and need to get my mind off troubling thoughts, I listen to my iPod. Letting myself get lost in the music calms me in ways that other ways can't.

I picked up my iPod from beside me and got comfortable on the pillows. I set my music on "shuffle" and closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep to the notes played and sung by all my favorite artists.

Eventually, I lost consciousness and my eyes slid shut without my noticing.

* * *

When I woke up, it was absolutely dark outside.

I checked the time on my iPod; the brightness of the screen made my eyes dilate so quickly that it hurt. After my eyes could handle the light, I checked the time again: eleven forty-three.

_Wow._ I thought, amazed. _I was really tired…It's so dark in here! Where's the light switch? Or is it _another_ remote?_

I pulled out my ear buds, rolled off the bed and--using the light from my iPod--found my way to the dresser. I grabbed the remote from the dresser and checked to see if it had another button for the light. I turned the remote at every angle and sighed; no light button.

_Maybe it's in the nightstand drawer…_

I pressed the correct button to both nightstands, shining the light from my iPod's LCD screen in each one: there was absolutely nothing in either, not even dust.

Starting to get frustrated and sick of the dark, I cried out loud, "Where's the damn light switch?!" I don't usually swear (and if I do I'm always sure no one else is in the same room), but at that time I wanted to actually sleep in my pajamas and perform my usual before-bed routine: personal grooming and hygiene like washing my face, brushing my teeth, trimming my nails, etc. Besides, I had a lot on my mind and a lot to deal with. For example: my mother's passing and my _uncle_, Tony Stark.

Right after I completed the outcry, the two wall lights over the nightstands turned on.

"I'm the light switch." An English male voice said, startling me. "You could have said something in a more pleasant tone such as 'Lights on'."

"Um…Sorry," was all I could really say. _I never thought a computer system that controls the house could have a sarcastic attitude. Another one of Tony's bright ideas I presume… Though it could be funny to hear once and a while._

I changed and did my routine in the bathroom. Somehow, changing in front of a glass wall that only shows a vast ocean makes me feel self-conscious.

When I walked out of the prestigious bathroom and got under the covers, I wondered, _Is this what it's going to be like every night? Just going to bed without anyone to say 'Good night' to?_

I sighed and said, "Lights off."

"That's better, thank you." Jarvis said as it turned into total darkness once again.

_Good night, mom._ I thought as I cried myself asleep, feeling like the most pathetic and loneliest organism to be spotted on the face of the Earth.


	6. Chances

**A/N:** Thank you to all the ones that reviewed my story! You all put me in such a great mood! I can't thank all of you enough!

I want to remind you that I own nothing but Cara. I don't want to get sued, so I had to put that there.

Keep reviewing please!

* * *

I woke up to the sound of my growling stomach.

The rising sun shone into my room, filling the space with glorious sunshine.

_Uhhhh…_was my very first thought, despite the wonderful sunlight. _I cannot believe_ _I forgot to _eat_. Eating is one of the essentials of survival. The last thing I ate was airline food. I'll go down to the kitchen when I'm dressed… What time is it?_

I rolled to my left to reach for my iPod. I turned it on and glanced at the time in the corner of the interface: seven twenty-three.

_Wow. _I thought. _That's early._

My stomach growled again, imploring for something to digest.

I decided to do as it pleaded; being this hungry hurts.

I quickly scrubbed my hair and face and got out. I was out of the bathroom in less than thirty minutes, fully-clothed and freshened up. I strode out of my room, my stomach pestering repeatedly. My ballet flats tapped as I paced myself down the open steps with no railing. I stayed close to the wall, running my hand over it for balance.

I walked to the kitchen and checked the fridge. I shook my head in disgust and disappointment; there was only liquor and wine in it. I practically slammed it shut.

_He's in his thirty's but acts like a twenty-year-old!_ I thought angrily. _Maybe Pepper can direct me to some food._

I looked around the house for her. She wasn't in the TV room, so I decided to check the workshop.

I was walking toward the living room when I saw a lady with blonde hair; the only things she was wearing was a long sleeved button shirt and some underwear. Her back was to me and her front was facing Pepper. In her hands, she held a couple articles of clothing on hangers.

I froze. _Is anyone supposed to know I live here?_ I pondered, rolling the question around in my head.

"…You must be the famous Pepper Potts." The woman with no pants on was saying.

"Indeed I am." Pepper said.

"So Tony still has you picking up his dry cleaning," the lady stated as she took the clothes and hung them over her shoulder.

"I do anything and everything Mr. Stark requires, even occasionally taking out the trash." Pepper said, giving a sarcastic smile. "Would that be all?"

I was slowly backing up when I saw Pepper quickly glance at me without the other woman noticing, so I froze again.

"Yes," the woman said, walking towards the stairs.

I started to walk toward Pepper once the lady was out of sight, but Pepper held her hand up to stop me while she was looking up the stairs. I stopped, yet again.

After a minute, Pepper put her hand down and said, "Okay. She's gone."

"Who was she?" I asked while I finished walking the distance between us, stopping a couple feet away.

"That"--Pepper stated while glancing at the stairs again--"was Christine Everhart, the woman that Tony brought home after the award ceremony."

"Mm-hmm," was all I said while thinking annoyingly, _He slept with her_.

"How can a man with the highest IQ this world's seen in decades have the maturity of a twenty-year-old?" I asked Pepper with my arms crossed.

"I don't know," she said with a slight hint of disapproval, looking at her clipboard.

Pepper turned to walk downstairs. "Hey…Miss Potts," I called to her.

She stopped and turned back to me. "Yes?"

"Is there anything to eat around here? All I found was alcohol."

"No." She said with a slight look of apology. "We don't make anything here but coffee." Then her face turned to shock. "Did you eat anything last night?"

I shook my head slowly, looking at my feet.

"Oh no." She walked back toward me, with a face full of guilt. "I am so, very sorry. I'll go get something right now. What would you like?"

"Anything. It doesn't matter to me." I thought for a few seconds and said, "Just get a breakfast platter from McDonald's, please."

"Okay." Pepper looked at me again with apology. "I'm so sorry about this. I can't believe I forgot about your well-being because I know that Tony will. He can't even feed himself without my reminding."

She smiled in amusement, but turned serious again. "But in the mean time, you need to be in your room for when she comes out of Tony's room. I will personally bring you your food. I will be back with that as soon as possible."

Pepper turned around and headed down the steps out of sight.

I did as I was told and waited in my room for the food, my appetite becoming ravenous. I distracted myself by watching some television. I noticed that sound was all around me, like surround sound. But there were no speakers for sound to come out of, so I was left baffled by how the sound was entering the space until Pepper strode in with a wide paper McDonald's bag.

I smiled gratefully while I took the bag of fried food. "Thank you very much. The calories in this will make up for yesterday too."

Pepper smiled at the joke and held out a paper McDonald's cup. "I also got you some orange juice, if that's what you like."

"Yeah. I like orange juice." I said, laughing while taking the cup form her grasp. "I need _something_ healthy to compromise with all _this._" I indicated the contents of the paper bag.

She only nodded and said, "Well I'll leave you to eat." She backed toward the doorway and added, "Ms. Everhart left so you don't have to be in here the entire time. You can come out if you want to."

"Okay. Thank you. I appreciate it."

Pepper nodded again and walked down the hallway, the door closing silently.

I ate my breakfast on the bed, flattening the bag out to protect the comforter somewhat.

I never thought I would enjoy eating a meal of MSG as much as I did then. I was just happy to be eating _something_.

_Note to self: Ask Pepper for food...Particularly more nutritious food._ I placed that thought in the back of my mind to make sure I don't forget.

After I disposed of the trash and washed the grease from the food off my hands, I had an impulse to work on my automotive designs.

I picked up my laptop from the top of the bookcase and turned it on. As soon as it was fully loaded, I opened my CAD program.

I worked on designs for what I hoped to be the next generation of fuel-efficiency: oxygen-powered engines.

When the car is going forward, wind blows against it always. The wind that usually cools down a normal gasoline engine through the grill of a car could be turned into energy.

I thought I would give this idea a shot; it's either a success or a fail.

I was trying to figure out how I could make the engine work when the car was at a halt when I thought, _How would I be able to test my prototype? _

I smacked myself in the head. _There's a workshop in the house! Duh! Jeez, I'm so out of it…But how will I be able to work down there since Tony placed all these restrictions on me? _

I mused over the chances of his approval. _I guess I'll wing it; I'll never know what'll happen if I don't try._

I smirked._ I wonder what he'll think once he sees how much gall I have to actually talk to him. He's never going to make the first move._

By then, I was way off engines and instead just thinking in general. _How does he think up the weapons? Is it like me when I think of designs of cars, but for him he imagines weapons instead? At least my designs aren't made for destruction and murder…What are his weapons like anyway?_

Then I thought, _Maybe they're on a website. It would be good to know _what _exactly my uncle is creating._

I loaded the Internet browser. In the Google search box, I quickly typed "stark industries".

I clicked on the first result that came up. The home page showed new developments in weapons and defense technologies. I read some of the information on the types of weapons: It downright astonished me the things these weapons could do and how much destruction they could cause…and the _prices_! One weapon made me think of exactly how far Tony can go when it comes to total annihilation. In one shot, this weapon would split itself up when it's airborne and the missiles would land on the ground, causing shockwaves to spread across an extremely large expanse of land.

I read more about this weapon called the "Jericho" and saw that it was supposed to be demonstrated tomorrow in Afghanistan.

_It's tomorrow in Afghanistan right now._ I deliberated. _That would mean Tony has to leave today, if I'm not mistaken, since Afghanistan's at the opposite side of the globe. I'll ask Pepper if they're leaving today._

I set my laptop aside but then thought, _I should bring it to show I'm serious about building a prototype. He'll probably try and find any excuse to make sure I don't work in there at all._

I snatched it from the bed and carried it with me downstairs. I needed to find Pepper first. She's the only one who actually gives me answers.

I checked the TV room first and, luckily, she was sitting on a round seat with no backing; she sat with a nice posture, her clipboard on her lap and her hands folded over it. She was watching the news.

"Hey, Miss Potts?" I called to her from the archway.

She turned her head quickly, but at seeing me, she smiled and asked, "Yes?"

"Are you and Tony going to Afghanistan?" I asked.

"Yes." She answered, nodding. "I was about to go tell you. How did you…?

"Website." I shrugged.

"Right," she said, smiling. "Well, only Tony's going. I'm staying here. He's supposed to already have left. It's"—She checked her watch—"ten after three. I'm going to remind him." She turned off the "TV" and stood up.

"You say that as if you know he hasn't left yet." I said.

"He's still here. I would know if he had gone by now."

She started walking toward the stairs and I followed.

"I'm coming with you," I said. "I have to ask and see if I can work on my prototype for the engine I've designed."

Pepper stopped in her tracks.

"You design engines?" she asked, astonished.

"Yeah," I replied simply. "And the exterior of cars. Here, I'll show you."

I opened my laptop and pulled up my designs within a few seconds. I turned the laptop so the screen faced her.

She looked at them, still astonished. Then looked away and sighed.

"Even with these designs, I don't think Tony will let you us his…lair."

"I'll never know for sure unless I try," I announced. "Besides, if he won't try to talk to me, I'm going to take it into my own hands to do so."

I closed my laptop and held it to my chest professionally.

Pepper looked at me curiously, not proclaiming what was going through her mind, and continued striding towards Tony's "lair". I followed close behind her down the stairs.

I glanced through the glass wall and saw him. He was working on the hot rod engine still. His back was to me and Pepper.

I heard hard rock music from the other room and I recognized the song: "Uninstitutionilized" by a name I can't remember…

Pepper typed in the code and I paid close attention: 5973

The door hissed open and the music stopped.

"Please don't turn down my music." Tony said in an uninterested tone without looking up.

"You" Pepper said while grabbing a pen from under her clipboard, "are supposed to be halfway around the world right now."

All the while, I was silently circling Tony so that he wouldn't catch me being there. They were too absorbed in their conversation to really notice me anyway.

"How'd she take it?" Tony muttered.

I realized "she" was that Christine Everhart woman I saw earlier.

Pepper replied, "Like a champ."

Tony responded very quickly. "Why are you trying to hustle me outta here?"

Pepper, ignoring the question, informed, "Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago—"

Tony cut her off. "That's funny. I thought with it being my plane and all that it would just wait for me to get there…"

Pepper ignored the comment and said, "Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple of things before I get you out on the—"

"…I mean doesn't it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?"

He stood up and sat on the right fore tire of the Roadster, wiping off his hands with a red cloth. By then I was behind him; he still had no idea I was here. I smirked.

Pepper, being an expert at ignoring his comments, said, "Larry called. He's got another buyer for the Jackson-Policon wings; do you want it, yes or no?"

"Is it a good representation of a spring period?"

"Um…no. The Springs was actually the neighborhood in East Hampton where he lived and worked…"

"So?" Tony interrupted.

Pepper continued speaking. "…not 'spring' like the season. Um, I think it's a fair example. Um…I think it's incredibly overpriced." She ended in a straightforward tone.

There was a two-second pause. Then Tony said, "I need it."

Pepper smiled as Tony stood up and walked passed her to the end of the room.

"Buy it. Store it."

Pepper followed him to the end of the room. "Okay…MIT commencements—"

"Are in June. Please, don't harangue me about this stuff—"

"Well they're haranguing me so I'm gonna say yes…"

Tony turned around to face Pepper. "Well…"

When he turned I ducked behind one of the tables at the opposite end of the room, avoiding being seen. I placed my back against the counter.

They talked over each other for a second more until Tony finally said clearly, "What are you trying to do, you trying to hustle me outta here? Do you have plans?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"I don't like it when you have plans."

"I'm allowed to have plans on my birthday."

He paused. "It's your birthday; I knew that. Already?"

"Yeah, isn't that strange?" Pepper said sarcastically. "It's the same day as last year."

"Get yourself something nice for me."

"I already did."

"And?"

"Oh it was very nice."

"Yeah?"

"Very tasteful. Thank you, Mr. Stark."

I could tell by their voices that they were both smiling, like there was an inside joke.

"You're welcome Miss Potts."

There was a pause and sounds of shuffling feet. This is the moment where I should have stood up and asked him, but something held me back. I'm not sure if it was that I felt I would have been interrupting something, or I wasn't sure how I was going to plead my case, or if I was just…scared. I have to admit: he intimidated me like no other adult of authority has ever done before. The police never even frightened me to the point of mutuality. I could never predict what he was going to say or do. I was so insecure here.

_I never felt like this before, at least not as strongly as I do now,_ I thought. _Why is this so hard? I missed my chance. I ruined it. If I'm going to be living here for four years I have to get used to him, and this insecurity isn't going to end if I can't even _talk _to him! _

I sighed pitifully, clutching my laptop tightly to my chest.

_What I'm I gonna do? _


	7. Change of Heart

**A/N:** I wanted to thank heygurlheyyyy for the extremely nice review! I also want to thank xEmilia, SilverHeart09, xoxoS.A.M., bookwurm23, lovetonystarkandwolverine, Chaos Terror Destruction, Eternal Density, FoolofaTook17, You cant rush science., and XxThe Best Damn ThingxX for reviewing and being continuous readers! I have so many more to thank who have made a story alert for my story or made it one of their favorite stories, and you all know who you are (hopefully)! Thank you all!

Please review! I love reviews!

* * *

That night, I dreamed the most puzzling dream I'd ever encountered.

_I was sitting in my old room when my mom came in and smiled at me. After a moment, she jogged away, looking back at me and laughing. Though not knowing what was funny, I laughed also and followed her. She ran into Tony's garage and climbed the stairs. She was getting far ahead and I couldn't make myself go faster, so I fell behind, thinking she'd be there waiting for me. I ran up the steps and came to the top when, suddenly, everything turned to darkness. I looked around furiously for a sign of life or a spot of light. Then I saw Tony's solemn face appear out of shadows. I cautiously ran toward him, glad to not be in this darkness alone. But he turned his back on me, the blackness absorbing him, and I was left there alone with no mother, and no family, and the blackness swallowed me as I spiraled away into a deep hole...  
_

I woke up abruptly, becoming fully awake in an instant. I looked around, bewildered.

_That dream was so real…_ I thought, still pondering the strange dream.

Then I looked down: half the sheets were hanging off the bed, and the rest were tangling my legs. Along with the sheets, the waist of my pajama pants was twisted around so the side stitches were halfway to my belly button.

_What was doing last night?! Jeez!_ I thought as I stood up to fix my sweats. _I hate it when this happens…_ I sighed annoyingly, fixing the sheets on the bed and making the bed on the way to get it over with.

_Would Tony have gotten back from Afghanistan by now?_ I thought curiously.

_When I had left the lair after my failed attempt for permission to use the workshop, I was about to enter my room when Tony came out of his. I looked full into his face, but he never looked at mine. He walked past me without a glance, leaving me to stare after him in puzzlement, wondering why on earth was he avoiding me.__  
_

_At that moment, I abandoned me feelings of resentment towards him, telling myself it wasn't healthy to hold such feelings, and was then trying to figure him out from a distance, attempting to observe him and get a better look._

_I followed him downstairs, keeping a good twenty feet distance without him noticing, and sat on the staircase where I had a good view of the entire floor. I watched as a black luxury car had come into the "garage", a handsome brown-haired man come out of the car, and packed some cases into the trunk. Tony got in his Audi R8, started it and drove out, tires squealing. The other man, already in his car, spun around in a fast attempt to catch up with Tony, and drove into the tunnel. The entire time, Pepper was only watching and sharing a few words with each man. When she turned toward the staircase, I got up as quickly as I could and ran to my room. A few minutes later, Pepper had walked into my room and said that she would be staying here until I went to bed. I protested and said she didn't need to do that and that I don't mind being alone. But she countered, saying she had plenty of work to do here. I left it at that, but I went to bed early. I didn't want to be the reason she didn't get to go home and rest._

_I hope she got some rest, _I thought.

I checked the clock on my iPod—which I kept on my nightstand whenever it's not in use: 7:02.

_How early I'm I going to keep waking up?_ I thought, shaking my head and sighing.

My mind switching gears quickly, I vaguely wondered, _Would Pepper be here yet?_

I decided to go check and walked toward the door. It suddenly opened and I saw Pepper.

"Oh!" I said pleasantly, smiling. "I was just abo—"

I stopped myself short, my optimistic expression changing speedily to a concerned one. Pepper's eyes were red: She had been crying.

"What's—" I cut myself off again, thinking at top speed. Pepper crying; Tony leaving for the Middle East, the land where they believe that they're saving people by bringing others' lives to an end quickly; the strange dream that must have been a premonition…

"Oh no," I said to her, thinking the worst must have happened. "He's not—he didn't—"

"We don't know," she said, her voice cracking. "Th-There was an attack—"

"Okay," I said, trying to be calming but was turning hysterical every second. "Sit down"—I lead her to the bed where she sat slowly—"and tell me everything."

I sat down next to her as Pepper took a deep breath. "I got a call from Rhodey..."

_Who's Rhodey? _I thought but didn't repeat it out loud.

"…he said that while they were transferring him back to the air base to fly him back here, they were attacked by locals. Tony was in the first Jeep so it was an easy target. They took him…" She shook her head as if she couldn't believe it happened. "Rhodey and his team are looking for him now and they won't stop until he's found alive or…"—She closed her eyes for a minute—"dead…"

My mind was still thinking rapidly. _Oh no. What if they never find him? Or worse: what if they found him dead? Where would I go then? There are no other people, no other family, unless there's _another _sibling I don't know about… Would I be allowed to stay with Pepper? _I caught myself before my thinking got out of control. _Ifs _never _get me anywhere. They're only a distraction and a way to frighten others._

I cleared my head and said to Pepper, "Relax. There's always a chance that he's still alive. Most likely they would use him for something. He is the creator of the most dangerous weapons this world's seen. They would keep him alive for a little while; I'm almost positive. But then again, I'm not a terrorist." I shrugged and grimaced. "He's probably alive, right now, fighting and crafting an idea to get away from them somehow. I might not have known him for long, but I know he can come up with an idea to escape."

I paused, and Pepper said, "Your right. I know he can get out of it. But we have to make precautions in case of his…"—She struggled to say the word—"death."

I grinned at a thought. "Does Tony always get into situations like this?"

Pepper laughed. "You wouldn't believe the number of times I had to help Tony get rid of a reject. Some wouldn't stop stalking him. One time, Tony made me pose as his girlfriend to make a reject stop showing up in his garage." She sighed. "I just showed up down there and he put an arm around me and whispered in my ear to go along with it. I'm sure I wasn't very convincing: I was uncomfortable and struggling to get away, but I could tell he wanted this woman out of there, so I stopped trying to free myself. After she finally left, I told him to never make me do that again. Of course he thought it wasn't a big deal and that I was overreacting, but he just doesn't understand." She sighed again, looking at the floor with a troubled expression.

I hesitated. "Would I?" I asked quietly.

She looked very uncomfortable as she said, "I don't think you would want to hear it."

"I don't mind," I said simply, shrugging. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't care."

She stood up suddenly, looked at me, and said softly, "I can't. I don't want to say. I'm sorry."

"No!" I said, standing up too. "Don't be. I shouldn't have pushed you."

There was a short silence until she said, "I better be getting to a meeting concerning the consequences of Tony's leave."

She turned around, walked quickly to the doorway until I said loudly, "He will come back."

She stopped and looked back for only a second, her eyes sad, and strode out the door hastily, like she didn't want to be seen. She was crying again.

_So much for encouragement, _I thought grudgingly at myself, staring at the spot where she had withdrawn.

* * *

After our motivational chat, we didn't converse much. She was off to so many meetings that involved Tony being gone and what they would do if he didn't come back.

I kept thinking it was my fault that she wouldn't go deep into our conversations. They were all business and "What do you want to eat?" But I convinced myself that she was just stressed with all the business she has to take care of.

It was morbid the entire time Tony wasn't around. I never knew his absence could cause the feel in the entire house to darken. It was unsettling.

When a month went by, I started to worry about my earlier, depressing thoughts of "what if". They were driving me into insanity.

Two months gone and still no Tony.

_You'd think they would have found him by now—or maybe called to report of the search once and a while!_ I thought angrily as a stared out glass window, hypnotizing myself with the continuous push and pull of the ocean's waves.

After the first month, they stopped keeping us updated and they said they'll call when they actually found him. It wasn't making Pepper and me very happy, since him being found affected us the most.

All I did now was sit on the floor with my back against the bed, staring out into the seemingly endless ocean. I've tried to read, watch TV and my movies, and play video games, but I can't do the same thing for long. My mind would wander and I'd lose focus on what I was doing. After a while of reading or watching TV, I would have to backtrack on what I just saw or read, so I stopped altogether.

I started out just looking over the ocean while I had my iPod plugged into my ears, but I soon ditched my music, as it was too distracting when I observed the ocean. I wanted to hear the ocean, and imagine myself floating on the surface, watching seagulls and pelicans pass above me as well as find shapes in the clouds, and see the sky fade into rich colors made by the sun rising and setting.

More than once I've fallen asleep in the same spot on the floor without changing into pajamas. I would wake up and find myself in bed under the covers, and wonder how Pepper can even lift me off the ground. I'm surprised she even bothered to put me in bed. I supposed that she wasn't holding our "conversation" against me. I would have been shocked if she did; she doesn't seem like the one who holds grudges. I also guessed she wanted to make up for being gone all the time.

Since it's been almost three months, Pepper has been reduced to job-hunting. I caught her sifting through job ads, and I can see the anxiety written on her face. Her anxiety made _me_ anxious! She looked like she was about to crack from all of the pressure. I left Pepper to work; I didn't know what to say to her and if I did, I think I would have been distracting her and definitely not helping with her multiple predicaments.

* * *

One night, I decided to put myself in bed instead of Pepper doing it for me. She was stressed enough without having to worry about me sleeping on the floor. I got a couple hours of sleep, but woke up again around one thirty. I stared at the ceiling, my eyes fully opened without any trace of sleepiness in them, wondering why I'm awake _then_ instead of sometime when the sun was actually _out_.

"Incoming call from James Rhodes," Jarvis said at some point. His voice was loud to my sensitive morning ears, so I jumped at the sound.

_James Rhodes…Would that be Rhodey who Pepper mentioned a while ago?_ I pondered that question, and answered yes in my mind.

I responded clearly while I sat up, "Answer it, please."

I waited a moment but no one said anything, and I wondered if they had hung up. To make sure, I asked, "Hello?"

"I didn't get your name last time. What was it?"

_Interesting "hello",_ I thought before saying, "Cara."

"Right, I knew that."

I thought for a moment at who's voice that was.

"…Tony?" I guessed.

"Well I'm not Rhodey. Missed me?" Tony responded in the same uninterested tone.

He was most likely calling from Rhodey's cell phone since the terrorists took his. It's part of the whole hold-a-hostage thing.

"I haven't even met Rhodey yet and I couldn't really miss you when you never talked to me."

"Yeah. I called to apologize for that."

"Great timing," I said with sarcasm.

"I know. My timing's usually a lot better."

"Well, thanks for the apology."

"You're welcome," he said hastily. "Listen: I need you to tell Pepper to come to the airport at noon tomorrow."

"That's a lot of responsibility to give a girl you only started talking to three minutes ago."

"Well, you're related to me so I expect you'll remember."

"I'll make a mental note of it."

"One more thing, when Pepper leaves tomorrow, turn the TV to the news channel."

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"Just look for me. You'll know when you see it."

"Alright. Whatever you say." I said sarcastically.

"Don't be smart."

"I can't help it. I'm related to you, remember?" I said, smirking.

"Ha ha," he said drily.

Right at that moment, I yawned and I was unable to stifle it.

He must have heard it; he asked, "What time is it over there?"

"Well, you should know," I told him. "What's eleven o' clock minus ten and a half hours?"

There wasn't even a pause. "One thirty. Did I wake you up?"

"No. I woke up before you called, conveniently."

"I have to go. Flight's leaving."

"Call has ended," Jarvis said right after Tony's last word.

_Well, that was abrupt,_ I thought with my eyebrows scrunched together.

I laid back into bed, finally regaining my sleepiness. It was the first time I've been thoroughly relaxed since Tony was captured. All I could think about was that he was actually talking to me. It was weird, but it felt completely normal talking to him. The thought made me smile.

_Maybe it won't be so hard living here,_ I thought optimistically. _Maybe these years will actually be somewhat enjoyable…_

I fell asleep at the happy thought, feeling like everything was falling into place at last.


	8. New Order

**A/N:** I changed the genre to General because there's only Hurt/Comfort in the first couple chapter, in case any of you were wondering.

Brief reminder: I do not own _anything_ except Cara.

Review please! Thanks!

* * *

I awoke at eight forty-six.

_Tell Pepper to get to the airport at noon,_ I mentally reminded myself.

I got out of bed immediately and prepared myself for the day.

After I believed I looked presentable with my hair tied up in a messy bun, I walked downstairs to look for Pepper. I heard her approaching; her black high heels clacked on the marble floor, and I glanced in that direction. Pepper stopped when she saw me.

"Good morning," Pepper said, her smile radiant.

"Good morning!" I replied, returning the smile. "Did you get a call from Tony last night?"

"No. Rhodey left a message that said they found him." She looked at me with curiosity. "Why? Did he call you?"

"Yeah," I answered, nodding. "He wanted me to tell you to meet his plane at the airport at noon."

"Oh," she said, showing by her expression that her question was confirmed. "Is that all?"

"Yep," I responded. When I saw a slightly perplexed look on Pepper's face, I added, "He also needed to tell me some things. I'm guessing he didn't want to disturb you while you were sleeping, maybe he didn't have time to call both of us."

She only nodded and inquired, "Was he…rude at all?"

"No," I replied, grinning, "Not at all. He actually called to apologize."

Pepper was taken aback at this. "Really? He never apologizes. He's too stubborn to admit he's wrong most of the time." Then she sighed happily. "I suppose this is a good change. It's good to know he's speaking with you."

"Yeah," I replied, wondering why he changed his mind.

"I brought you a bagel and some hot chocolate," she informed, pointing to the coffee table in the living room. "It's on the table."

"Oh," I turned to look at a paper bag on the low table. "Thank you!" I twisted back towards her to give her a smile.

I walked over to the table, grabbed the bag of food and hot chocolate, and headed upstairs But before I was out of Pepper's sight, I looked back and said, "Do you mind telling me when you're leaving?"

"No, not at all," she replied.

"Thank you," I said and continued to walk up the steps.

I ate my breakfast while watching a movie: The Phantom of the Opera. It was two and a half hours so it should keep me occupied until Pepper reported her departure.

I had a fondness for musicals; the songs and score always got stuck in my head, but in a good sense. I would usually sing along with the tunes I know well; I liked to think my voice isn't unbearable. Since I've listened to music practically all my life, I gained a good perspective on what a good voice and music sound like.

I tend to cry at the end of this movie; Christine, in my opinion, should be with the Phantom, not Raoul. But if you think of the relationship in a metaphorical sense, it's better if Christine ended up with Raoul anyway. The whole ending is still sad for me though, and I tend to get emotional about movies and such, even though it's not real. I was always teased by my mother about that.

I ran to the bathroom to wipe my eyes before Pepper came in; I wouldn't want to explain to her why I was crying.

I heard the bathroom door slide open.

_Too late,_ I thought bluntly.

Before she could say a word, I explained in a well-composed tone, "Don't worry about me crying. I was watching a sad movie. I do this all the time! Really." I laughed to show Pepper that I wasn't lying.

"Okay," she responded, her worried look relaxing. "You scared me for a minute." She made a quick sigh of relief. "Well I came up here to tell you that I'm leaving to pick Tony up. If you need anything, just call my cell. You know my number, right?"

"Yes," I replied. I had memorized her number in my time of boredom, which didn't take too long since I was so focused on doing so.

Pepper nodded. "Okay, I'll be back soon." She then smiled and left the room.

I waited a few minutes before going downstairs; I wanted to watch the news on the good TV.

I sat down in the TV room and looked at the console for the "television". I tapped the screen of the picture frame-sized console, and an image appeared on the window. I tapped what looked like channel buttons—which after I experimented, were in fact the channel buttons—and channel-surfed for the news channels.

To my utter amazement, this "TV" had over one thousand channels.

_Leave it to Tony Stark to have a need for a thousand channels,_ I thought jokingly to myself.

I was channel-surfing for ten minutes until I lost my patience, and stared at the console for a guide button.

There wasn't a guide button, but there was a search button. I pressed it curiously.

The screen altered: a keypad and a rectangular box for typing in popped up.

I typed in "news", my frustration diminishing all together.

Results came up in a list. I tapped the first one and a news channel finally showed on the window.

I kept tapping at the different news channels, looking for Tony. While I was repeatedly pressing the list of different news broadcasts, I pondered on why he told me to look for him on TV.

_Did he just want me to see him on TV? _I shook my head at the thought._ Well that would be pointless since I'll see him soon after. Was it to see him coming out of the plane? _I sighed in defeat and hung my head. _All these suggestions are unreasonable! What is he planning?!_

I flipped through channels for fifteen more minutes, barely paying attention to the chatter of each broadcast.

Abruptly, I heard an anchorwoman say, "—Tony Stark has called—" But I had already changed the channel.

I bounced back quickly to the anchorwoman, my curiosity at its peak.

"—press conference here at Stark Industries Conference Hall after his return from his mysterious disappearance in Afghanistan." They showed Tony getting out of the black luxury car I saw chase after Tony's R8 a long time ago. A bald man held the door open for Stark. He hugged Tony like he was a long-lost son finally returned home.

By then, I had a guess that he was Obadiah Stane, Tony's co-owner.

Tony, his right arm in a sling, walked up to the building's doors while reporters with microphones ambushed him and cameras flashed while others clapped for his return home, but he kept looking ahead. Pepper and Obadiah followed him into the building.

"The conference is starting here, live on KNKV News." the anchorwoman concluded.

They switched to a camera in the building where Tony and Obadiah were walking up to a podium, reporters still shoving microphones at him and cameras still flashing, while the rest still clapped. When he was at the podium with Obadiah the reporters calmed down and stood waiting for Tony to speak while the last of the camera flashes died.

Tony went out from my sight in front of the podium. The bald man stood at the podium and looked down at Tony with a slightly confused expression upon his face. I couldn't see Tony at all.

"Would it be okay if everyone sat down?" I heard Tony say. "That way you can see me and I can…so it's a little less formal..."

All the reporters glanced at one another with confused looks, but obeyed the billionaire. Mr. Stane sat down next to Tony, smiling a little uncomfortably. I could see Tony now, and, to my confusion which matched the reporters, was sitting down with his back against the podium eating a fast food hamburger.

Tony chewed for a moment until he muttered something to the Obadiah, who then sets his hand on Tony's shoulder in comfort. He takes his hand off Tony shoulder as Stark says clearly, "I never got to say goodbye to my father. There's questions that I would ask him; I would ask him how he felt about what this company did…if he was conflicted if--he ever had doubts. Or maybe he was ever inch the man we remember from the news rails."

He paused while his speech sunk in. I never knew he could be this serious, nor expected how dreary of a turn his conference could take.

All were silent as he continued in a more serious and gloomy tone, "I saw young Americans killed, by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them…and I saw that I had become a part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability."

A few reporters in the front row raised their pens and called, "Mr. Stark." Tony mutters something to a male reporter, who asks, "What happened over there?"

Tony then stands up and walk around to the back of the podium while saying, "I-I had my eyes open. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things to blow up and that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturer business of—"

Suddenly, everyone stood up and shot questions at him, creating uproar. But Tony kept talking in the microphone while Obadiah tried to overlap him. I had to strain to hear Tony. "—Stark Internationals, until such a time as I can decide what the future of this company would be, what direction it should take; one that I'm comfortable with, and is consistent with the highest good for this country and world."

Finally succeeding in taking over the podium, Obadiah spoke clearly over the reporters, "What you should take from this is that Tony's back"--He raised his hands as if in praise--"and, uh, he's healthier than ever, and we'll have an international discussion and we'll get back to you with the following."

With that said, Tony left while Obadiah chased after him, parting the sea of reporters.

I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

_He's _shutting down _the weapons department?! Oh my goodness…_ I leaned my forehead into my hand. _What is he doing? Isn't that the department that makes all the money? He'll lose business and millions of dollars! Is he aware of this? Well, probably. He had this all planned out before he even got on the plane back here!_ Thinking of his new direction right down to his consummation of the burger during the conference, I thought amusedly,_ He broke all the rules. Does he seriously expect the company to go through with this? Either he really _does_ think he's the center of the universe or he obtained an injury to the head back in Terrorist Land… He must have really been affected by that experience there…_

I turned off the television and merely sat there, still in disbelief at the enormity of events that had just occurred.


	9. Explanations

**A/N:** This chapter was tricky, but it was fun to type! Sorry it took so long. My beta actually didn't check it yet so it's not perfect. I'll do some small revisions later, but until then, I hope you all like it!

Review, review, review! (Try and say that super fast!)

* * *

I ran down the steps. I was dying to know if Tony and Pepper were back.

I looked through the glass: no one was there.

I wanted to wait in the workshop, so I typed in the code I remembered Pepper typing in: 5973.

The pad immediately turned red and Jarvis informed, "You are not allowed to access this area."

"What?" I asked, started to get irritated. "Are you still holding that rule Tony set for me three months ago?"

"He has not told me to let you into any locked areas," Jarvis replied.

"That's because he hasn't been_ here_," I snapped, keeping my voice volume even.

"Well, that's not my problem, is it?" Jarvis retorted.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I would have wait on the stairs for them to get here and unlock the door.

_I might as well get something to do,_ I thought after a moment.

I ran up to my room, grabbed my "Percy Jackson" book, and sprinted back out.

I found a comfortable position on a step, and opened my book to Chapter 19: "We Find Out the Truth, Sort Of".

Greek mythology has always fascinated me. Where did the Greeks get these ideas of different gods and goddesses from? It was a few hundred years before Christ came along. So did some random person say they had a vision of twelve different higher beings in a place called Mount Olympus, which was supposed to be placed in the clouds set on a humongous mountain? I wish they had told us that in mythology class.

I was fully absorbed in what I was reading and thoughts about it, so, naturally, I didn't hear the car pull in or Pepper walk toward the door to open it.

I looked up quickly when the door hissed open. At seeing Pepper, I stood up quickly and glanced out of the glass wall. Tony was taking off his right arm sling.

Pepper smiled and held the door open for me.

I went through, still carrying my book, and smiled back in thanks.

"Miss Potts," I heard my uncle call. "Please dispose of this." He handed Pepper the sling which he apparently didn't need.

"Would that be all, Mr. Stark?" Pepper asked, taking the sling from him.

"That will be all, Miss Potts," Tony replied. It sounded like he was implying another meaning.

She left, looking like she understood his meaning.

Tony then turned toward me with analyzing eyes. I looked away from his gaze, getting a little uncomfortable. It was different being in his presence than hearing his voice on the telephone.

He motioned to the leather couch behind me. I did as he wanted.

I sat at the very end, while him at the opposite end.

There was a pause while I continued to avoid his gaze.

"Do I intimidate you?" he questioned, a hint of amusement hidden well in his voice, but I could still detect it.

I nodded and said, still averting his stare, "Yeah."

My obvious uneasiness of him proclaimed, he laughed.

I looked up and glared. _Does this guy take everything as a joke?!_

He stopped laughing at seeing my glare, but instead smirked.

Still glaring, I said, "Do you have any idea what I've been through in the past three months?"

His smirk vanished and has angry eyes pierced me. "You, apparently, don't have a clear conception of what _I_ went through."

"Then tell me," I said with menace. "I'm sure you would love to talk even _more_ about yourself."

We glared at each other until, to my confusion, he broke contact, breathed a sigh full of angst, and put his face in his hands.

I stopped glaring, instantly feeling guilty. _What I'm I doing? _

"…I'm…I'm sorry," I said after a long moment of hesitation. "You're right: I don't know what happened to you. But from your speech, it sounded…devastating."

Tony put down his hands and sat up. He glanced at me and said, "I should be the one apologizing. I haven't been fair to you."

I looked down at my hands. "Why did you act like you didn't care?"

"Because you were a problem I didn't want to deal with." He said slowly. When I glanced up at him, he was looking down also. "Ignoring you and the fact that your mother has passed was, I thought, the easiest way to leave all of this behind me. It was selfish. I was hurting you and I didn't do anything to fix it."

Tony glanced back at me. "I'm sorry for doing that to you. I did care about your mother. I haven't heard from her in years, and I eventually forgot about her. Now when _you_ walked in"—he changed the tone of the conversation to a more humorous one—"and told me that my sister died, you metaphorically slapped me in the face. I don't like it when people, especially fourteen-year-old girls, slap me in the face, even if you didn't really touch me, you still did in _my_ mind. That was my excuse for not interacting with you."

"That's it?" I said, catching the vibe of the conversation.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow. "You expected more?"

"No. Why should I expect any more from _you_?"

"Don't expect anything from me. Ever. That's why I have Pepper."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, smiling, then, taking the smile from my face, I asked, "What happened there anyway?"

His face turned solemn. "I was captured by the Ten Rings—a group of terrorists"—he responded to me confused look—"and they wanted me to build the Jericho missile I presented to the troops earlier—I didn't _build_ the missile"—he reacted again to my expression, which was apprehensive—"I built a suit."

"What kind of suit?" I asked curiously.

He paused, probably deciding if he should tell me or not. "…I built an iron suit—don't ask me to explain anymore." I had opened my mouth to ask what that meant, but silenced myself. "You'll know, sooner or later."

"And this suit helped you escape?" I asked.

"Yep."

"I wish you would explain more so I could get a clear picture of it, but the fact that you escaped is impressive."

"Oh, really? You're just _impressed_?"

"Fine. It's _astounding_!" My words dripped with sarcasm. "The _fact_ that you _escaped_ a group of _terrorists_ simply fills me with _awe_! It's almost _incomprehensive_! I—"

"Okay, okay," he said. "That's good."

"Oh, are you sure?" I asked, still being sarcastic. "I could go on _forever_! Because you're so…"

"Yes?" he said, smirking widely, both of his eyebrows lifted.

I hesitated. I actually had no particular word picked out. You can't explain him in one word.

I finally admitted defeat, mostly because I didn't want to say what I had in mind. Shaking my head slightly, I said, "I don't know."

"Come on," he pushed. "What I'm I?"

"I would think you would know by now," I said, smirking also. I was referring to the fact that he should know he's human.

"What? Oh." His confused expression lasted only a millisecond. "Fine. Don't tell me. But I _will_ bring it up again, when you won't be expecting it."

"Fine."

"You know what else I built?" Tony inquired, rapidly changing the subject. He reached his hands up to the top of button shirt, but put them back down just as quickly. "Okay, first, when we were attacked I got out of the car that was being used to transport me back—anyway, a missile—one of my missiles by the way—landed nearby and it exploded on me and some shrapnel got in me. Most of it was removed but some of it's still in my body so I need a magnet to keep it from entering my heart."

"You built a magnet?" I questioned disbelievingly; that was way too simple for Tony Stark to make. Or at least for him to mention making.

"Well, not exactly," he answered. He unbuttoned the first couple of buttons by his collar.

"Wow…" I said softly in amazement.

Right where his heart was, a blue-white lighted circular mechanism glowed.

"What is that?" I asked, staring in wonder at the device.

"It's a miniaturized arc reactor," he stated. "There's a big one powering my factory."

"So that keeps the shrapnel out?" I asked as he buttoned his shirt.

"Yep."

"Do you want me to continue my earlier amazement?" I asked jokingly.

"As much as I'd like to say yes, I'll decline the offer." I sensed some sarcasm used there, but it could have gone under any gullible person's radar.

"How could you _possibly _say 'no'?" I asked, resuming my sarcastic tone.

"Because your sarcasm is so blatant and obvious that it makes me feel weird. That's way I stopped you before."

"Oh!" I said in exaggerated realization. "So my sarcasm is too _much_ for Tony Stark! I feel so complete now!" I dropped my sarcasm, but added false seriousness to my tone. "I'll be holding that over you for the rest of your life!"

"Glad you'll only be here four years." There was no sarcasm or hint of a joke in his voice.

I dropped my jaw. "Okay. That's mean." I hesitated. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Cara, you should know by now that I'm not serious about anything but when I am, you'll know. I'm sure you can figure it out since you have some of my brilliance."

He then stood up and walked to his computer desk, saying, "Now, if you don't mind, I have things to do."

"Okay," I stood up and grabbed my book. "Nice talking with you."

He didn't look at me when he said, "Yeah."

I turned and walked out, looking back at Tony; he didn't look up again.

I walked up the steps with more questions polluting the contentment of my mind than before I started talking to him.


	10. Project

**A/N:** 51 reviews! Yay! Thanks for all the positive feedback and reviewing! They are making me so happy! You have no idea! Thank you!

I don't own _anything_ except Cara!

I was lying on my bed while I thought about what Tony had said about this "suit".

_An iron suit; How do you escape with an iron suit? Wouldn't it be too heavy? Sure it's good protection, but how would you make iron into suit form? _I wondered._  
_

_Let's see…if you make iron into suit form, you would need something to help yourself move the iron with your own movements. You would need some help lifting this heavy element. Well, thinking like Tony—_I grimaced and shook that thought out of my head—_Ah! No! _Don't _think like Tony! Who _knows_ what's going through his mind when he looks a chick—or at anytime to be more precise!_

I got back to my original though process._ The _technology_-thinking part of his brain…he made Jarvis, who has artificial intelligence, and he has robots around his workshop. Robots help him with his inventions—Robotics! He uses robotics to move the suit! But you need something to power the robotics in the suit. _I figured out_. You would need electricity to power something such as robotics. But iron is a metal, thus means it conducts electricity. How could he have powered the suit with electricity? It would have shocked him! There has to be another source of power other than electricity…_

My mind flashed to that blue-white glowing device in his chest. _Oh! Right! That would be a source of power that's portable! What was that called again? Ugh! I can't believe I forgot! It has only been three hours since we talked! Think…_

I had my brow furrowed until it ached. I couldn't understand how I could have forgotten the name of that device. I was usually pretty good at memorizing things.

_Not this time,_ I thought bluntly.

My bedroom door slid open.

I looked up quickly, making my neck crick. Pain shot through my neck tendons.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, reaching my hand up to massage those muscles.

"What? Have I blinded you or something?" I heard Tony ask.

"What could you have even blinded me with if I was indeed blinded?" I asked.

"Let's see: was it my charm or good looks?" he responded.

"Neither," I replied, still massaging the back of neck. "I had a crick in my neck."

"First I cause you fear, now I cause you pain. Haven't I caused you any good feelings?"

"No." I glanced back up when the pain subsided. Tony had changed out of his business suit into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He was leaning his shoulder on the doorway with his hands in his pockets. "Not yet at least. Why did you come up here anyway? Pray the reason will cause me a good feeling."

"Well, it should. I need you to help me with something."

"Why? How could you possibly need _my_ help?" I added some sarcasm at the end.

"I can do it by myself but I figured this would be part of the apology thing. Are you in?"

"That depends on what you need help with. And how does helping _you_ make up for the rudeness you showed to _me_?"

"Pepper's not in on it and neither is Rhodey. You and I would be the only people who knew about it and _you_ will keep it a secret unless I decide to tell Pepper; got it?" Tony became deadly serious in an instant close to the end.

"Okay, fine," I answered, standing up from the bed.

Tony turned and strode down the corridor while I followed.

Without glancing back, Tony asked, "How far did you get?"

Wondering how the heck he knew I was thinking about the iron suit before he even walked into my room, I replied, "I think you used robotics to help the iron suit respond to your movement and you used that glowing thing in your chest—"

"Arc reactor," he interrupted.

"—to power the suit," I finished.

"You are correct on both," Tony said in his emotionless tone, typing in the code at the lair's door. "You get a gold star for the day."

"I'll put it in my imaginary gold star book," I said, mimicking his tone.

To my surprise, he held the door open for me.

"Wow!" I said. "I didn't know you could be a gentleman."

"Yeah, don't be expecting any more acts like that," Tony retorted as he walked to his computer desk. "Jarvis, pull up the Mark II plans."

"Yes, sir," Jarvis replied.

On all of the computer screens, there appeared parts of the same plan. But in the biggest screen placed in the center of all of monitors, there was the title "Mark II" in the upper right corner while below it what looked like a human but not exactly. It spun to show the front view, than the side view, than a close-up shot of the object's head and shoulders.

"Is that the suit you made there?" I asked, figuring that Tony would know what "there" I was talking about.

"No," Tony replied, catching what "there" meant. "This is the refined version of the suit I made in Afghanistan. Jarvis, make a Mark I and II comparison."

"Yes, sir," Jarvis responded, showing the both suits side-by-side on the center monitor.

The difference was huge. The first suit was bulkier and, by the looks of it, much heavier, while the second suit was thinner, sleeker, and much less crude. Also, in the first suit you could see all of its—

"Are those weapons?" I asked in disbelief, while I pointed at the Mark I's sketch.

"Did I just hear you ask the question that I would think you would already know the answer to?" Tony replied, giving me a look that made me feel slightly stupid.

"I never thought about your suit having weapons, but now I wonder why I never did," I said truthfully.

"As do I," he said, still giving me that "Are you stupid?" look. "What did you think I did? Throw fairy dust on them so they turned good and helped me escape?"

"I just didn't think about!" I defended myself. "I don't think about weapons everyday, unlike you Mr."—becoming frustrated because I couldn't think of an offensive name, I snapped—"You know what? I don't feel like sparring with you right now! So just tell me what you need help with!"

Tony raised an eyebrow at the reaction. "You don't respond well to harsh sarcasm. You also can't think of anything to call me that could possibly offend me, though it's a lost cause. By the way, I still want to know what you thought about me a couple hours ago."

"I don't know!" I exclaimed, in utter shock at this guy's nerve. "I haven't thought of a word, and probably won't for a while, and why do you decide to analyze me _now_?! Just tell me what you want me to help you with! Okay?"

Wondering if this guy was put on this Earth to annoy the living crap out of me, I got really angry when he started to laugh.

I gave him my death stare, which thankfully had an effect on him: he stopped laughing but still smirked and said, "I'm sorry. Your reactions are amusing." Before I could retort, he got back to the point, "It's simple: You're going to help me build the suit. Oh, did I mention that it can fly? Well not yet, but it will."

My thoughts of anger vanished into amazement. "Your suit can fly? Did the first one fly?"

A small smile playing on his lips at my sudden change in emotions and apparent fascination, Tony replied, "Yeah, but only for 12.4 seconds. And it wasn't exactly sustained flight like I'm planning on making; it was like a rocket. My landing wasn't very smooth either."

"You wouldn't have had enough time to land properly, so let me guess:"—I smiled playfully—"You crash-landed."

"You would've done the same thing."

"Maybe, but we'll never know for sure unless I try it," I grinned widely.

"No." Tony got dead serious again.

Still teasing, I said, "Come on—"

"No, you are never getting in the suit so don't even ask." His eyes told me he was not amused and was really being serious.

"Okay," I said quietly, slightly hurt by his harshness. "I didn't know you would react so strongly about it…Sorry."

"Let's just get started on it," Tony muttered without looking at me. "Always do as I say and don't question my instructions."

He pulled up the plans and got started. We started on the boots. I didn't really do much; I handed him the tools needed, and that was pretty much it. I wanted to complain so badly, but I didn't want to get him angry. But then again I wondered, _Why should I care if he gets mad? He doesn't care about how _I_ feel._

At one point when he was placing wires vertically in a boot, Tony said without looking away from his work, "You want to complain don't you." It was a statement not a question.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, getting my frustration out, "I'm not _doing_ anything!"

"You're not very good at hiding your emotions," he muttered. "Talia was like that too." He got back to the subject. "I'm surprised you lasted this long."

"Can I do something then?"

"No. I have to see if you can use these tools properly. But I haven't thought of anything you can start on."

"How 'bout an engine," I suggested.

"If you're talking about my hot rod engine, the answer is 'no'."

"No, I'm not. I have an engine designed already. I wanted to ask you before you were captured but I lost my nerve."

"You lost your nerve." He turned to look me disbelievingly in the eye. "You didn't even have guts to talk to me." It wasn't a question.

"Oh, you shouldn't be talking!" I snapped. "You didn't have the gall to talk to me either!"

"You're supposed to be the better person here."

"You're supposed to be the responsible person here, but you're not! I'm actually feeling more like a parent being around you!"

"I don't wanna be the parent anyway. Being the kid's more fun."

"So you just let everyone else take care of you?"

"Why do think I have a PA?"

"PA?" I looked at him questionably like "What the heck is that?!"

"Personal Assistant, Cara. Catch up with the times," Tony said as he turned back to his work. He cut me off again before I could retort. "You've designed engines since…"

"Four years ago," I replied, letting the other topic drop. "I've been designing exteriors of cars too."

"Are any of 'em any good?"

"I sold one to GM—"

"No you didn't."

"Um, yeah. I did."

"Really. What model is it?"

"The Cobalt."

"Then let me see the designs."

I went and grabbed my laptop, particularly annoyed at Tony for his disbelief.

"Here." I held out my laptop toward him.

He put down his tools, took my laptop, and opened it. He glanced at the designs quickly, and looked at me.

"How much did they pay you?"

"$2,630."

"You could have gotten a lot more. Especially since this is a particularly popular model."

"They sent a bonus for its popularity," I said matter-of-factly.

"How much?"

"Why does the cost matter?"

"I just wanna know if they ripped you off."

"Well to my mom and me, it was a lot of money. I can understand, of course, if you think 3,400 isn't much."

"They ripped you off," Tony said point-blank.

It took all my self-control not to roll my eyes. "Well it's too late now since I gave them the designs two years ago."

"It's never too late to sue somebody," he mumbled.

"I would never sue someone. I don't want to deal with all that law crap. It's too much for me. Besides, suing someone makes you look bad, even if your cause is righteous and just." I sighed. "I wish the world wasn't like that."

Tony stopped working for a moment to look at me curiously. "You have an odd way of thinking."

I only shrugged. He then said, "Most people would find that appealing."

"It hasn't gotten me anywhere with making friends," I said pathetically.

"Did you use your sarcasm too much 'cause that's probably why."

"No!" I said angrily. "It was because of my age."

"Hm. Never would've guessed. That wasn't a problematic factor for me."

"Yeah, well I'm not as lucky as you," I said bitterly.

"I'm not here because of luck. I'm here because—"

"You have a big head?" I suggested.

"If you mean 'head' as in 'amount of intellect' then yes."

"That's not what I meant but you can take it anyway you want," I said simply.

"I don't need permission but thanks."

I smiled sincerely. "You're welcome."

There was a short pause before Tony said, "I think I can handle the rest from here. I don't need you to look over my shoulder all night."

"I'm three feet away from you but okay, I'll leave."

"We'll start on an engine tomorrow," Tony glanced at me.

"Are you sure you don't want to work on the suit by yourself?"

"I don't mind some help. I also want some of guilt to go away. I hate it."

"I don't blame you. For hating guilt, I mean."

"Do you still blame me for ignoring you?"

"Maybe just a little," I said. I walked to the door of the garage and looked back at Tony to say, "Good night."

He didn't look up as he said, "Night."

I fell asleep thinking how well everything was turning out.

I had the best sleep that night than I had had in a long time.


	11. Testing

**A/N: **Over 2,000 hits for my story! This, to me, is an astounding achievement! Thank you all! Maybe we can make that number go higher…

When Cara says something about the "Beverly Hillbillies", she's not talking about the show but how some hillbillies marry their relatives and "Beverly" as in "Beverly Hills, California". You'll get it once you read it (I hope)!

Review!

* * *

_CLAP!_

I woke up instantly in shock. _What the—_

"Get up, Cara. I wanna get started," I heard Tony say from the doorway.

I turned while staying under the covers and groped for my iPod on the nightstand: 7:48

"Uh, you're kidding me," I grumbled.

"Come on. Get up and get ready."

"No," I whined, pulling the covers over my head. "I'm a teenager. Teenagers need sleep."

There was a pause and muffled footsteps. Then the covers were ripped from my grasp and pulled entirely off my body to reveal Tony, dressed for the day and emotionless. But his eyes sparkled with humor.

I took a pillow and put it over my head.

"Are you asking for me to tip the bed over?" I heard Tony's muffled voice ask.

I lifted the pillow off my face to glare. "You wouldn't."

He then walked around to the other side of the bed, his smile growing gradually.

Before I could react, he had tipped the mattress so my top half rolled off while my legs stayed on the bed as the mattress fell back to its original position.

I stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

His smirking face came into view. "I would."

He laughed at the expression on my face which was still in complete surprise. "Are you awake now?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No. Comment."

Tony laughed again and I asked, "Why am I so amusing to you?"

He didn't answer my question but only straightened up and walked out from my view while saying, "Meet me downstairs in twenty minutes." I could still hear the smile in his voice.

I heard the door close and looked toward it to make sure he was gone. I took my legs off the bed, rolled to my feet, and got ready to jump in the shower.

I was annoyed at Tony the entire time I was getting ready for the day. My mind barely strayed from his wake-up call. In some ways, it was funny to me also; sometimes you can't help but laugh at some incidents. But I wasn't going to gave him the satisfaction that tipping me over was funny; he would probably do it again.

I strode into the workshop with my laptop in hand. I was thinking we would need it for the designs of my engines.

Tony was working on what looked like the final touches of his second boot at one of cleared tables that used to be cluttered with scrap metal.

"So," I started as I walked toward him. "Are we getting started on my engine?"

"Change of plan," he said without averting his eyes from his work. "No engine today. I'm just gonna work on this myself and you're just gonna stay down here and watch."

I sighed. "Great." I walked toward his computer chair in the middle of his wrap-around desk. "Just what I want to be doing: Nothing. Fun. And you made me wake up really early too."

I sat down in the chair with my laptop resting on my knees while I spun around to face him.

Of course he didn't look up.

He then said, "I can multitask you know."

"Of course you can. 'Cause you're a super genius." I said drily.

"I meant we can still talk," he muttered, not appreciating my tone.

"All the more, you were still flaunting your talents, even if most people can multitask."

"Why are you being mean?" Tony asked simply, finally looking away from his project. "Is it because I tipped you off your bed?"

I sighed. "No, Tony—"

"Then what is it?" he pushed. "I wanna know."

I thought about it; I really didn't know exactly way I was being so cold with him. Then again, he kind of deserved it for how he treated me when I appeared on his doorstep. But I knew it wasn't right to bring up the past, so that reason wouldn't do. Then I found the reason.

"Do you ever keep your promises?" I asked.

"How is this relevant?" Tony asked.

"It's relevant, I promise," I said quickly so he can answer my question.

He shrugged indifferently. "Sometimes but not usually. That's why I don't make 'em anymore."

"It sounded like a promise when you said 'we'll work on the engine tomorrow,'" I said quietly, looking down at my laptop and fingered the crease of it.

"Look, Cara, you gotta understand that things change in my schedule. You're not the only thing I have to worry about."

"Yeah," I mumbled, not looking up.

I heard him sigh. There was a pause where I still stared at my laptop and fiddled with it. I heard Tony mutter under his breath, "I wish you were the only thing I had to worry about."

I glanced up at him to see him back to work on his boot.

I hesitated, mostly because it's still a little hard to say it. "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time."

"Don't worry about it."

"Want me to tell you the same thing about everything else? Like the company?" I asked jokingly.

"If you had that power, you'd be doing me a favor," he responded with a glance in my direction.

"Why do you even bother with the company any way if you don't want to run it?"

"It's not that. It's just that the board's not agreeing with the direction I want to take. Obie's the same way."

"Obie is…"

"Obadiah Stane, my co-owner."

"Oh, I knew him, just not his nickname."

"Sure you did," Tony smirked.

"I did! Pepper told me about him."

His smirk disappeared gradually before he asked, "Did you know anything before you got here?"

"I was clueless," I stated blankly. "I knew you only by what the kid's in high school said about you. I figured out you were a ladies' man when I kept hearing girls giggle when the talked about you and the fact that some of them had pictures of you hanging in their locker."

Tony grinned. "I have that effect on a lot of women."

"I'm glad I was never in _that_ party."

"You wanted to be in that party."

"No I didn't. If I ever was, it would be pretty awkward for both of us when we found out we're related. Talk about Beverly Hillbillies."

Tony cracked up at that but, of course, had to add a smart-ass remark, "We're in Malibu, not Beverly Hills."

"Do you have something I can throw at your big, smart-aleck head?"

"If you were planning on throwing something at me you wouldn't tell me what you were gonna do—"

"I wasn't going to throw something at your head anyway!"

"I'm just saying for future opportunity."

"I'm never going to throw something at you, okay? I'm particularly non-violent."

"What are you, a hippie?"

"No, I just avoid physical conflict."

"Sometimes punching someone's nose solves everyone's problems."

"Since when?!" I asked.

"Since the beginning of time, Cara," Tony turned to face me. "It's always been like this. You have to be the best of the best and that includes having the best of the best. What my company made was the best weaponry in the world and now it's in the wrong hands. It's my fault those soldiers died—"

I interrupted, surprised at the change in atmosphere. "You didn't know—"

"Exactly; I was naïve and now I know what I need to do and it's to destroy the weapons _I_ helped to create."

"That's not what I meant. I meant you didn't know they were gonna get killed—"

"I could've avoided it. I could have avoided the Ten Rings from getting my weapons—"

"Look Tony, you can't change what happened," I spoke seriously to him, looking him right in the eye. "You can only learn from your mistakes. Yeah you were naïve and, frankly, a jerk"—Tony smiled amusedly—"but somehow you were given another chance to fix things. Just don't waste it this time."

There was a pause before Tony said, "That's why I'm building the suit."

"I figured," I said, smiling.

"Wanna see me fly?"

"Yeah, you're done with them already?"

"Yep, let's try 'em out."

He put on the boots and grabbed the handles that would make them fly. The boots had cords that attached to his arc reactor to give them power to fly. He got two robots, a fire extinguisher and a camera robot, and set them by the black grid on the floor by the cars that I remember rolling my luggage over my first time here.

"I'm gonna be filming this so try not to talk," Tony instructed to me from the grid while I sat in his computer chair to watch.

_"_You say that like I can't keep my mouth shut,_"_ I said.

He ignored me and took a couple steps back toward the middle while saying to the camera robot, "Okay, let's do this right. Start mark half a meter back at center."

He takes a deep breath and says to the fire extinguisher robot, "You, look alive, standby for fire safety." He looks at the camera robot. "Dummy, roll it. 'K"—he gripped the hands controls firmly—"activate hand controls. Start it nice and easy, gonna see ten percent thrust capacity, chief lift an' three…two…one—"

_SMACK!_

Tony was flown up and backwards from the force of the stabilizer and smacked into the slope of the high-to-low ceiling and crashed to the floor on his back. The fire extinguisher robot then doused him with some type of gas even though there was no fire to be seen.

I stood up quickly and ran around the desk to him while I was grinning widely and trying hard to hold my laughter.

I heard him cough. "Stop!" Tony ordered the robot between coughs, which obeyed and ceased its spray.

"Are you okay?" I asked, unable to stifle my laughter.

"I'm not gonna answer that," he muttered, annoyed. He stood up and began to take the cords that were connected to the arc reactor out.

"What kind of gas was that?" I asked.

"Carbon dioxide," he answered. "Made specifically to save a person on fire but"—he turned toward the robot—"I _wasn't_."

The robot bowed its douser sadly.

"You don't have to be mean to it," I defended the pitiful robot.

"Whatever," Tony said. He took off his boots and said, "I need to make some modifications..."

Ignoring the comment, I asked, "Are you sure that fall didn't hurt you?"

"I'm just a little banged up, nothing serious," Tony looked at me with eyebrows raised. "Are you actually concerned for my well-being?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to pretend I don't care. Wipe that smirk off!"


	12. Confessions

That entire week Tony worked on the suit while I watched until one day, he surprised me with handing me a tool while I was standing nearby. I took it gratefully and smiled brilliantly. He walked me through the steps of how to use them and what to do. He wouldn't allow me to use the welder for fear that I'm going to damage the stabilizers. ("You said it was made of gold _and _titanium! They can't melt into a puddle with a _welder_—maybe the _sun_, but not a welder!" He ignored me.)

We had finished the right hand flight stabilizer when it was late evening and Tony was trying on the stabilizer.

"That looks really heavy," I commented.

"Eh, I'm having some help." He tapped his arc reactor that was shown clearly since he cut a hole in his shirt for it.

I heard the door open behind me and turned around to see Pepper carrying a brown paper wrapped box with a cup of coffee balancing on top of it. She reminded me of a waitress.

"Hi, Pepper," I greeted with a smile and small wave.

She looked at me and smiled and spoke to Tony. "I've been buzzing you in; did you hear the intercom?"

"What?" Tony asked with out taking his eyes off the stabilizer he was holding up while his arm stayed horizontal.

"Obadiah's upstairs—"

"Great, great, I'll be right up."

Pepper set the box and coffee down on the table and stared at the stabilizer suspiciously. "I thought you said you were done making weapons."

"It isn't," Tony explained. "It's a flight stabilizer. It's completely harmless."

The stabilizer glowed and shot Tony backward with a blast and a crash. Pepper covered her ears and half-ducked while I cringed and covered my ears also.

"I didn't expect that," Tony said quietly as he began to stand back up look at the mess of junk he had knocked on the floor from the shelves he had crashed into.

I shook my head slightly and laughed softly as I said to Pepper, "It never gets boring being around him."

"You start to _miss_ 'boring' being around him," she responded with a grin. "Trust me."

She walked over to Tony and wiped the dust off him and tugged at his shirt. Pepper pointed at the stabilizer and said, "Take that thing off and come upstairs."

"Yes, dear," Tony replied, a small smile appearing.

Pepper sighed in annoyance and strode hurriedly out of sight up the steps, heels clicking.

Tony hadn't taken his eyes off Pepper the entire time.

My eyebrows went beneath my bangs.

He caught my look and played innocent. "What?"

"You know what!" I accused.

"No," Tony pleaded his innocence. "I don't know 'What'. Who's 'What'?"

"Stop playing dumb!"

"I'm not playing 'Dumb'. I don't even know how. Is it like a board game?" He spoke so seriously it was almost believable. Almost.

I hung my jaw and grinned disbelievingly. "You are _so_ guilty of hitting on your PA!"

"I really have _no _idea what you're talking about."

"You're a really good actor Tony but I'm not buying."

"You really lost me with all this stuff that I don't even comprehend. I need to be up there so…" He began to take off the stabilizer and set it on its stand.

He wasn't going to talk so I let it slide.

Tony walked past me and I started to follow when he turned around with his hand up. "Oh no. Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"I'm gonna go meet Pepper and Obadiah upstairs with you," I said innocently.

"Na, you don't need to meet Obie," he said.

"Come on! You're keeping me in a prison, Tony! And someone's come to visit me in my cell!"

"It's a heck of nice jail, if you ask me," Tony compromised. "Besides he doesn't even know you exist. No one's supposed to know you exist, but nice try with the metaphor."

"Why can't I show I exist?" I questioned. "He's your co-owner so can't I just—"

"No, Cara," Tony indisputably. "It's for your protection, and so I don't have reporters tailing my ass everywhere."

I breathed angrily through my nose but gave in and crossed my arms.

He pointed to the couch, "Sit."

I obeyed but not without giving him a scornful look.

When I had sat down, Tony pointed to his eyes and then at me, meaning he was watching me, but by the look on his face he was trying to be funny.

I cracked a smile, laughed a little and hid my mouth behind my hand, knowing that's what his purpose was.

He turned around, still wearing the same face and he climbed the first couple of steps and repeated the laser-eye gesture through the glass wall. I laughed again; I can't keep a straight face when he does stuff like that.

Tony finally disappeared up the open staircase.

I sat on the couch with my legs and arms crossed as I counted out the minutes. After I counted to three minutes, I opened the door and walked upstairs.

I heard them talking as I came up the steps. They were all sitting on the couch of what appeared to be an argument. Tony glanced at me while he was talking to Obadiah and narrowed his eyes; he was _not _happy with me. Pepper seemed more worried than angry.

I kept my face passive as I walked up to them. Obadiah noticed that they were looking off in my direction and turned around in his seat.

When I first glanced at his eyes, they were shocked, then—to my bewilderment—furious, but these emotions were only in his eyes for a millisecond until they turned emotionless.

He looked at me curiously while his face showed false happiness, like a face you would wear for the press so they didn't know what you were thinking and gave everyone the impression that you were happy and your life was great; a façade for the rest of the world to read naively.

"Hi," I said politely, holding out my hand, "I'm Cara Howard, Tony's niece. It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Stane."

"Oh!" Obadiah lightened up more and shook my hand. "I thought you were a…unexpected delivery." He inclined his head toward Tony.

I smiled, pulling my hand away. "No. No, I'm—if you didn't know—Tony's sister's, Talia's, daughter."

"Yes, I knew Talia. Quite the girl; very bright. How is she nowadays? I haven't seen her in years."

"Um, well, she…passed away a little more than three months ago," I replied awkwardly.

"Oh, I'm…sorry to hear that," Obadiah said looking sympathetic, but it didn't seem to me like he truly meant.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"How long have you been here?" Obadiah asked with his eyebrows knit.

"Three months," I answered.

"Hm." He turned to Tony, and just then realized that I had sold him out. "Tony?"

Tony glanced at me hatefully, where I tried to fit in an apologetic look before he turned to Obadiah, who continued, "Why didn't you tell me you had this fine young lady here?" He indicated me with a hand.

Now I could see the gears in Tony's head spinning, trying to think of an excuse.

I glanced down at the table: there was a pizza box.

Bingo.

"Pizza! I'm starved!" I opened the box while everyone turned to stare at me. I looked at Mr. Stane. "May I have a slice?"

He hesitated and looked at me skeptically like I couldn't have picked an even worse time to cut into the conversation. "Yeah. Sure."

"Thank you!" I smiled gratefully as I picked up a slice.

Tony took advantage of the distraction. "You know what? I'll have another one, thank you."

He stood up with his slice of pizza, and walked in front of Obadiah toward the staircase. I followed him while Obadiah called to Tony, "Why don't you show me what you're doing down there."

"Good night, Obie," Tony called back as he walked down the stairs.

I looked back at Obadiah and waved in goodbye.

He didn't wave back or smile but only looked me in a suspicious way, so I looked quickly at Pepper instead. She gave an unconvincing smile back and looked down which perplexed me.

Something wasn't right about Mr. Stane.

I walked into the workshop, knowing what was coming.

"I thought I told you to stay put," Tony started on me while I avoided his gaze and chewed on the pizza. "And what do you do? You follow me upstairs. I had specific reasons for not letting you meet him, so why did you deliberately disobey me and come upstairs?"

"I figured he was someone I could trust—"

"Fact is I _don't_ trust him. Not since after I got back from Afghanistan. He's not acting right and is asking me too many questions. Now you put yourself in danger and me on thin ice. Thanks. Thanks a lot."

"How could I be in danger? He did look shifty to me, but not someone that would think about killing me or something."

"He could tell others and that's all it takes until word spreads that I have a fourteen-year-old niece that could be easily taken care of so that they can hurt me. And I was thinking about letting you wander around town since you want to go out and get some fresh air. I guess that's not happening." He shrugged. "Oh well."

_Great_, I thought. _He's playing the "guilt trip" card._

"You know," I said, trying to over-compensate his "guilt trip" play. "I think you're over-stressing the situation. It can't be _that_ bad."

"It _is _that bad, Cara," Tony verified. "And you say _I _don't take things seriously."

"Well what's done is done and it's my mistake," I said to him with slight bitterness. "I'm sorry."

"Just why do you ignore everything I tell you to do?" Tony asked, exasperated. "Why am I still the enemy here?"

"I did it without thinking," I explained hastily. "It's nothing against you."

"Use the gray stuff between your ears," Tony said lightheartedly. "Not like you use it often."

"Why do people always tell me that?" I asked rhetorically, laughing.

"Because it's true," he answered.

"I was being rhetorical."

"I'm still going to answer the question either way."

"Do you purposely try to annoy everyone you know?"

"Kind of," Tony replied, starting to smirk. "You should hear me annoy Platypus."

"I don't know the nicknames you give everyone so just say their real name please."

"Platypus slash Rhodey is James Rhodes," he said with a sigh. "I used his cell to call you before I came here, remember?"

"Yeah of course I remember. Are their any other nicknames I should know about?"

"There's Happy; He's my chauffeur. His real name is Harold Hogan. Understand why I made a nickname?"

"Yeah but why do you call James Rhodes 'Rhodey'? Can't you just call him 'Jimmy' or something?"

"Rhodey is _not _a '_Jimmy_'," Tony said while laughing. "If you meet him ever then you'd understand.

I caught the "If" but didn't start on that. So instead I continued with the topic, "What about Pepper? What's her real name?"

Tony looked up in thought, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Uh I think Vio—no Vir, Vir…" He snapped his fingers trying to find the name. "Virg—Virginia!"

"I can't believe you took that long," I looked at him incredulously.

"You don't hear that name everyday and besides she looks like a 'Pepper', don't you think?"

"I suppose so," I shrugged and decided to pop that question, "Why did you flirt with her anyway?"

"We do that all the time. It's harmless." There was something behind that…

"Really." I looked at him doubtfully.

"Yeah it's nothing new."

"I don't believe you. You're hiding something."

"I'm not _hiding_ anything."

"Why are you so defensive of this subject?"

"Cara, there's nothing to defend—"

"Yes there is. I'm not stupid, Tony. Why can't you just say—"

"'Cause there's nothing _to_ say!"

"Okay," I said calmly, sitting on the couch. "You can tell me when you're ready."

Tony leaned back and glanced at the ceiling, laughing at my persistence.

I looked at the TV across from me and grabbed the remote on the table.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tony asked, pointing behind him. "Forget something?"

"What? Aren't we done for the day?"

"No. Break's over. I want to test all the stabilizers tomorrow so we have to get these done tonight."

"Come on! I haven't watched TV in a while."

"It's been a week."

"For a teen, that's like a _decade_. Besides I want to try and stay up-to-date since I can't _go anywhere_." I glanced accusingly at him.

Tony walked up to me and grabbed my wrist of the hand that was holding the remote. Pain shot through my arm, causing me to drop the remote.

"_Ow_!" I screamed, caressing my arm. "Oh my _God_! God bless America! _Ugh_!" I looked up at him, my face showing complete shock. "_That hurt_! What the heck did you do that for?! You know there are _gentler_ methods!"

"I figured this would get your attention," he spoke as he flipped the remote in his hand.

"How did you know where to pinch anyway?"

"The ulnar nerve is the easiest nerve to pinch, to me at least. I looked it up one day."

"You look up nerves to pinch, why?"

"I don't look these things up everyday, and I don't do it all the time either. I just wanted to see how efficient it is on you. It's fun doing it to Rhodey." He grinned mischievously.

"Another method to annoy people, I presume?"

"Yep. Never gets old. Oh and I did that to you because I wanted to see your reaction. 'God bless America'?" He thought it was hilarious; I could tell. "You bring the new meaning to 'cursing'. So every time something bad happens to you, you bless the country?"

"I never thought of it that way but I guess that's what I'm doing." The pain in my arm finally went away. "Don't ever do that again. Please, don't," I said while laughing.

Tony looked at me carefully and I was daring him through my eyes to try again. He shot a hand for my shoulder and I raised my hand to knock it away, but he shot his other hand to my shoulder muscle while I as distracted with his left hand and he pinched hard and fast.

I've been pinched there before, because it's a common place for others to scare me by quickly jabbing my shoulder and neck muscles so I jumped whenever I felt the nerves electrify me so the hairs rose of my body.

But I've never been pinched there that badly before.

My hairs instantly rose around the lower left side of my head and so did the entire left shoulder, neck and arm area as pain became imminent very fast.

"_Ahh_!" I yelled throwing my hand up to my shoulder. "_Stop it_! You're so _mean_!"

"It's kinda your fault since you were daring me—"

I slapped him on his arm; the only part I can reach from the couch.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed. "No slapping."

"No pinching!" I shot back. "Especially on major nerves! I'm not getting off this couch now since you _crippled_ my _arm_!"

"The pain'll go away, but fine; I'll work on it _without _you." He glanced back teasingly as he walked back to the flight stabilizer. "I'll probably get a lot more done."

Ignoring the statement, I inquired while I spread out on the couch comfortably as the pain subsided again, "What did you learn from my reaction this time?"

"That you only give people two strikes before you get really stubborn."

"You don't _deserve_ three strikes!" I called behind me since I was laid out on the couch facing the opposite direction.

"Yeah," he said indifferently. "You're probably right."

I laughed. We didn't talk after that since he got absorbed into his project. Over that time I closed my eyes and thought about anything that I happened to dwell on.

* * *

"Okay," Tony whispered. "I like Pepper. Happy?"

He glanced at Cara at the couch. She didn't move nor respond.

"Cara?" He walked over to Cara and saw that her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell gently; she was fast asleep.

He smiled at how angelic and fragile she looked, but laughed quietly because she was the total opposite.

The way her head and neck were on the arm rest looked terribly uncomfortable and he wondered how the heck she could fall asleep like that.

He decided to do something decent for her. So he went upstairs to her room and took a pillow off her bed. Right out her bedroom doorway, he ran into Pepper.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, catching her breath. "Tony, you scared me."

"Yeah, sorry," he said hastily. "Where are the blankets around here?"

"Um, there right..." She touched a sleek metal door and walked inside to grab a large fleece blanket from a top shelf.

"Here," she finished as she handed the blanket to Tony. "Why do you need it?"

"Cara fell asleep downstairs," he mumbled and shrugged.

Pepper smiled. "That's nice of you, Tony."

"Does it turn you on?"

"Just make sure she's warm, Tony," Pepper laughed.

Tony turned and walked down the staircase while Pepper watched him walk down the steps. She soon left the mansion, thinking of the changes in Tony as she drove to her loft.


	13. Realization

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! I've been busy with a life that I'm so glad I have! I'm in a play (and it's so much fun by the way), but it's gonna take up some time writing stories so there will be delays. Sorry about that too! I hope this and the following chapters make up for it!

* * *

I became conscious but I didn't open my eyes. I felt warm fuzziness around me and a familiar feathery softness at the back of my head. I remembered I didn't walk to my bed last night…

I shifted my position and felt my lower back peel off the leather.

I opened my eyes immediately and found myself staring at the back of the tan leather couch. I looked around; I was still in Tony's workshop. I could see the daylight from the windows reflect off the TV screen and shine on the ceiling.

I glanced down and saw a fleece blanket that covered me entirely.

_Did Tony do that?_ I thought beginning to smile. _Aw, that's so nice…_

I pushed myself further up my pillow so I was in a sitting position while my legs still stayed stretched out on the couch. I groaned sleepily as I did so.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," I heard Tony greet from behind me.

I twisted in my seat to see him applying metallic armor to cover the wiring on a boot.

"Hey," I greeted in return. "How much did you get done?"

"This is the last of the finishing touches," he replied. "I told ya I'd get more done."

"The second testing is scheduled for what time?"

"When I'm ready," he responded simply and glanced up at me.

I grinned in silent laughter. I hesitated and then asked, "Did you…?" I lifted up my blanket in indication. "Get this for me?"

He glanced at what I was holding and looked back down at his work again, no expression on his face; he was embarrassed.

He shrugged and said quietly, "Yeah…"

I dropped the blanket back down while I watched him and had to ask, "Why are you so flustered?" I was grinning widely.

"I'm not _flustered_—"

"No, you just don't want to admit that you care about me too!"

Tony sighed and replied in falsetto, "'I'm not going to pretend I don't care'."

"That doesn't count!" I exclaimed, still smiling at his resistance and failed attempt at mimicking me. "You _quoted _me!" Usually I would have said something about his imitation of my voice, but I figured if I changed the subject, he would jump on it to get the last one out of the way.

He looked me full in the face. "Cara, you're asking a lot—"

"No I'm not! You're just too stubborn to say it!"

"Don't make me do it right now—"

"Tony Stark, you are _whining_!" I burst into laughter.

"I am not whining!" Tony started to laugh too and said, "I liked you a lot better when you were sleeping."

"You are so stubborn!" I said in amused exasperation. "Fine! Just tell me when you're ready. Oh!" I exclaimed as I recalled. "What about how you feel about Pepper? You're stalling on that too!"

"Well I actually told you last night but you were knocked out so that's your own fault that you didn't hear it."

"What?!" I cried. "That's not fair!"

"Oh contraire," he replied. "It is in fact fair since you said I could say it when I was ready and I was conveniently ready when you were sleeping."

I sighed indignantly.

He smirked as he said authoritatively, "Go take a shower."

"I'm going, I'm going," I muttered, still frustrated. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and put my pillow under my arm.

"Hurry up 'cause I'm almost done," Tony ordered as he turned back to his stabilizers.

"Alright, fine, but don't start without me."

"I better see you running."

"What?"

"Three," he counted down.

Getting that he'll start testing without me if he doesn't see me running, I sprinted to the door and opened it, but my blanket got caught as it shut. I swore silently and typed the access code in while Tony held up two fingers and mouthed, "Two."

I yanked the door open and pulled my blanket in to me, jogging up the steps as my blanket flew behind me like a cape. I pulled it closer because I knew I must look stupid with it blowing, and glanced back at Tony while I could see him from the steps. He had an index finger held up while he was laughing behind his teeth and mouthed, "One."

I took that tiny second to stick my tongue out and run the rest of the steps; my last glimpse was him in full-blown laughter.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hands and scalp raw from my super speedy scrubbing, and my body devoid of any dead skin cells, courtesy of the high powered scrubber that I had turned on without realizing how immense the intensity of the jets would be; it had felt like I was being crushed on all sides by a waterfall.

I ran down the open steps and saw Pepper sitting on the couch, working on her laptop.

As I got on the last step, I addressed her speedily, "HiPepperbyePepper!"

I only saw her look up in surprise and puzzlement before I was halfway down the steps to the workshop.

I breathed in relief; Tony was snapping on the last stabilizer on his arm over his protective form-fitting suit that prevented the metal from hurting him.

I typed the access code and strode in toward his computer chair in the wrap-around desk.

Tony only glanced at me and only said, "Don't talk," as he walked to the black grid and turned around so I could see his face, but the main reason was the camera robot was placed more toward where I was seated.

I lifted my hands in a sort of surrender and said with my eyes and expression, "Okay! I won't!"

Tony ignored me as usual and began, "Day eleven, test thirty seven…"

_Test _thirty-seven_?!_ I thought in shock. _Where the heck was I?!_

"…configuration two point oh. For lack of a better option, Dummy is still on fire safety"—he looked at the robot with the douser set behind him—"if you douse me again and I'm not on fire I'm donating you to city college."

The robot bowed pitifully.

"Just gonna start off with one percent thrust capacity in three, two, one."

Tony lifted about two feet off the ground while the palms of the stabilizers glowed and were aflame. He stayed suspended in midair for a few seconds then fell back to the ground stumbling.

I watched with fascination the entire time. _That is _way _better than a jetpack, _I thought.

Tony looked behind at the robot, which was pointing its douser directly at him. "Please don't follow me around with it either 'cause I feel like I'm going to catch on fire spontaneously."

Dummy bowed its douser again. "Just stand down until something happens and then come in."

He turned to face forward. "Again at two point five. Three, two, one."

This time he elevated about five feet off the ground and with a slightly higher intensity of flame. He flew awkwardly, apparently not familiar with being that high up with nothing for protection. His hands were held at an angle that pushed him backward towards his cars. The flames were dangerously close to the metal.

"Okay, this is where I don't want to be," Tony said. "Not the car, not the car."

He tried to glide away from his very expensive modes of transportation but ended up flying over one car to another until he was almost to the other side of the room. Papers started to fly up and away from there places on the tables, fluttering from the rush of air produced by the stabilizers.

I only sat transfixed, seeing as he was about going to crash into the wall. I wanted to yell, "Use your hand stabilizers!" but I kept my mouth shut obediently.

Almost as if he'd heard me, he was brought back to his senses and held up his hands to face the wall, slowly coming to a stop at the sudden change in direction and pushed backwards toward his take-off spot on the black grid. He steadied himself over it and slowly descended until he killed the power and landed firmly with a clank from his heavy gold-titanium stabilizer boots.

Tony took a quick breath of slight relief and turned around to find Dummy lifting its douser to him.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" he said loudly to prevent from being sprayed.

That robot appeared very ashamed as it pointed its douser to the ground yet again.

"You can fly," I said softly, still in amazement.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I can fly."

"You're going to have to work on it a little though; you're very awkward flying."

"I thought that would've gone better," Tony muttered as he walked over to the half-cleared tables to take off the flying machinery.

"I mean you didn't crash, which is what I thought was gonna happen. Did you expect to be an expert the second try?"

He didn't answer, but seemed to have his full concentration on removing the stabilizers.

"Your ego is huge," I commented with a grin.

He turned to face me. "You just love picking on me don't you?"

"It's true then?"

Silence.

"To me, that says 'yes'," I remarked.

He walked toward the door and opened it.

"You have a knack for ignoring me you know," I continued to comment.

Without a glance in my direction, he was up the steps and out of sight.

I smiled to myself as I spun in the chair, making quick glances around the room.

I stopped my motion as I looked around the workshop more closely. There were so many different things in here, and this would probably be my only chance to examine some of his personal belongings.

I stood up and walked around to desk to the cars. They attracted me like a moth to a porch light now that they had my full attention.

All of them were beautiful and much more than your average sports cars. These were instruments built for speed and to make the driver look a lot hotter than they actually were—which Tony doesn't really need help with.

The hot rod was parked at the far right, its engine completed. This was a classic Ford Roadster from the thirties with the best paint job you could probably give it, and it looked good. I personally wasn't into classics as old as this Ford, (and I'm more of GM girl,) but this model made me like Ford and the thirties' cars a lot more.

The Tesla Roadster next to it was far more modern—more modern than the present to be precise. This was still a concept car, and an electrical-powered one. It reminded me of an upgraded Porsche, with great hood scoops, like the car next to it.

The Saleen S7 is one of my favorites. This is one of those cars that would blow you backwards in less than five seconds because of its high horsepower of 720. Its body is long with amazing "gills" and air intake along with…oh it's so hard to describe! It's just like a world renowned painting or sculpture; sometimes you can't explain its beauty.

The Shelby Cobra from the sixties is fantastic car with lots of muscle. The sixties were Ford's heydays. This particular model was one of the more famous for its great looks and astounding speed. This car is a collector's item now and would go for a lot of cash at an auction. I wonder how Tony got his hands on one…

The Audi R8 was the last one in the line of autos. This was one of Audi's top models because of its eye-attracting body and speed. But another thing about this model was that it had class and a luxurious aura like most European cars. Audi somehow keeps it in its models, and so I have much respect for this esteemed company.

I went up close to each one, careful not to touch any. I would be the last person caught leaving a fingerprint on one of these.

After I admired all of Tony's cars, I had a look around his desks, walking slowly past each one so I had a good look at their surfaces cluttered with paperwork, strange mechanisms, and old half-filled coffee mugs that had most likely been sitting there for days.

I was at the tables in the back looking at the shelves stacked with miscellaneous pieces of junk and scrap metal, walking further away from the glass walls.

As I reached the back wall, I came upon an old sketching desk that hadn't appeared to be touched in an extremely long time. It was littered with newspaper clippings. Some articles were even on the wall above it.

I switched on a desk lamp nearby since the area surrounding was a little dim and sifted through the clippings, staring at the pictures printed on them.

The pictures on the desk were of him when he was a teen prodigy with him doing things not even a middle-aged scientist and engineer could have achieved like building a robot or engine, or writing a very complex equation on a chalkboard. The articles stated that he graduated from college when he was seventeen along with other impossible accomplishments, and about inheriting the business from his father, Howard Stark.

I searched for mention of my mother, but there no to little information about her. Who would want to examine at normality when her brother is a genius and plainly more interesting?

I threw down the articles angrily and glanced at the pictures placed on the wall. There was a picture of just Tony and his dad and others with Obadiah and his mother. Then I saw one of only Tony and my mom. They were young—my mom looked thirteen and Tony a year older—and happy with their arms on each other's shoulders. A tri-board was behind them that seemed to be a science experiment with a blue first-place ribbon pinned on it. They each had a hand on a trophy.

Then a thought came to me: _They had worked on it together…_

I couldn't turn away from the picture, for it was clear that they had worked together and were treating each other equally. It was pure proof that had loved each other. What had made my mom cut off all communication with him?

I finally turned my back on the picture to find myself face-to-face with Tony.

"Holy--!" I exclaimed, backing up in to desk, making it wobble. "How long have you been standing there?"

"What are you doing?"

"Can you answer my question first please?"

"No. What were doing over here?"

"I was just looking around," I explained truthfully. "I had nothing else to do while I was waiting for you. Sorry, I didn't know I was trespassing."

"What were you looking at?"

That caught me by surprise. I thought he was going to get hostile, but he only seemed curious.

"…The picture of you and my mom," I said softly after a pause.

He glanced beyond me to the photo on the wall.

He looked back at me and said, "It's okay. I'm not mad."

"I know."

"Then why do you look like a martyr?"

"Oh," I muttered as I felt my ears grow warm. "I didn't know I looked that way."

"Well now you know you're not gonna die so stop looking so chastised. This is your house too. I expected you knew that by now."

"Well, yeah but this is still _your _workshop."

"And I gave you permission to be down here and that means 'everywhere'. Not just one part of it and the other is forbidden."

"Oh, well, thanks for clearing that up," I muttered sincerely.

"Good God, Cara, you're not in trouble!" Tony said. Apparently I still looked like my execution was at hand. "I wouldn't punish you for something like going to this specific corner, but I would punish you for putting on my suit."

"Understandable." I started to walk past him, but he held me back with his hand.

"Why are you acting all feeble and…_weak_?"

"I just thought I would get in trouble. I'm fine now." I smiled to convince him and made another attempt to get away from interrogation, but he held steady.

"No. There's something else going on. What is it?"

I hesitated. I didn't feel like having this conversation. At the back of my mind, I tried to think up a lie, but knew deep down that it was pointless; he's like a human lie detector.

"It's just my mom," I managed. "Why did she run away? It couldn't have been that bad. And why did she just avoid contact with you and her own mom? Why would she be _that _afraid of her past to lose everything and start over? I mean seeing that"—I indicated the picture—"and reading the letter she left after she died, it's like it doesn't fit. Now I can't ask her about it because she's gone. I wish I would have known before, but she was too afraid to tell me anything when she was alive." Tears started to well up in my eyes. "It was just cruel of her to leave me like this without giving me a clue."

That's when the tears overflowed. I covered my face with my hands.

"Come on." Tony guided me to the couch. I sat down without taking my hands off of my eyes. Tony walked to the kitchenette and came back with a Kleenex box and a cup of ice water.

I mumbled a "thanks" and used a tissue to dry my face as he sat down next to me.

We sat in silence except for the horn-like sound my nose made when I blew into the Kleenex.

Then he said, "Not trying to be insensitive but when I asked what was wrong, I didn't expect a speech. Or tears," he added.

"I'm sorry," I said behind a tissue.

"No it's completely fine," he explained. "I mean, I kinda know what you're going through."

I glanced at him, surprised. "You do?"

"Yeah. My parents died in a car crash before I inherited the company. I only had Obie after that. It's not easy losing your family."

"I…I had no idea," I stammered. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't kill them. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I know…but still."

We were quiet again as I sipped my water. I was calming down quickly.

I turned to him. "Thanks for your concern, Tony."

"Oh, yeah, no problem. Um…This might sound crazy but when you started to cry, I literally saw your soul start to bleed. It was weird. Is it just me?"

"My mom sometimes said stuff like that too. I never believed it. I thought she was just being poetic or something. She said she could see my soul with my eyes and stuff." I shrugged.

"Yeah I saw it in your eyes."

"You're kidding right?"

"No I'm not. I know it's probably hard to believe for you but this is one of those rare moments when I'm really being serious."

I shook my head disbelievingly.

"Fine. You can not believe me or your mother, but your eyes are very deep, like I can see into you. They're very beautiful."

I felt my face grow hot and I couldn't help but smile. "Thanks," I mumbled.

Another pause.

"Okay, time for bed." Tony stood up abruptly and walked to the door.

"Already?"

I stood up slowly and turned toward the windows behind me; it was indeed night time.

_Wow_, I thought. _That was fast._

I spun back around to find Tony holding the door open while making a sweeping gesture for me to walk through.

"I thought you said not to expect anymore gentlemen-like acts like that!" I said.

"I didn't say I wouldn't actually _do_ it, just don't expect me to hold it open for you all the time so you smack into the door or something."

"Your meanings are never very clear," I remarked, walking through the door with my water.

"Jarvis, lights off."

"Shutting down all lights," the AI replied.

The lights immediately started dimming and it was pitch black in there in less than a second.

As I got to the top of the steps I saw Pepper in the same spot as before: on the couch working on her laptop.

"Hi Pepper," I said, perplexed. "Did you move at all while we were down there?"

Pepper glanced up then around to see that it the stars were out. She jumped up.

"Oh my, time flies!" she said. "I'm almost done with your emails Mr. Stark."

"Pepper, go home," Tony said, exasperated. "Please, don't work up all night on those. You can do it tomorrow."

"I just have fifty more to check—"

"_Fifty_?!" I asked incredulously. "How much does he get per day?"

"I don't think there's a number large enough," she replied.

"Okay, now you're just over-exaggerating," Tony said. "Pepper, go home and get some rest."

"Just go to bed, both of you. I'll be done in twenty minutes."

"Pepper," I said. "You have bags under your eyes. I think you should get some sleep too."

"It's probably because ever since Tony's little charade at the press conference, I've had so much crap to deal with from the paparazzi and board members I'm losing sleep over it," Pepper said with spite.

"Then extra sleep will make you feel better!" I said. "Please, Pepper?"

"I told you, I'm almost done, I'll be out of here in twenty minutes. You're just stalling me now." I can tell she directed that at Tony.

Tony walked over and snapped the laptop closed before Pepper could retaliate. He snatched it from her grip, which got Pepper fired up.

"Give me back my laptop, Tony," she said seriously as she tried to reach for it behind him, but Tony kept it out of her grasp without ever taking his eyes off her.

"You're off-duty now Miss Potts," he said with a smirk.

"Tony, this is not funny!" Pepper said as she tried to grab it again. Tony lifted it above his head, making Pepper jump in her heels. As she reached up to grab it, she became in very close proximity with him; she was leaning on his stock-still body trying to get her laptop back. It looked like they were about to kiss.

Pepper figured it out and stepped back a few steps. Tony didn't put down her laptop a millimeter. He had his smirk still upon his lips.

"Fine, you win," Pepper said with an annoyed sigh. She grabbed her bag and strode to the front door quickly while her heels clacked loudly on the marble floor.

"Goodnight Miss Potts," Tony called to her.

She slammed the door in response.

I turned to him. "I think her hair was on fire."

"She's so hot when she's mad."

"Literally; I could feel the heat radiating from her. How can you make her that mad?"

"Years of practice," he replied simply.

"You're so vague," I commented.

"It takes too long to explain details. Now go to bed."

"And pushy," I added as I headed up the steps.

"Night."

"Aren't you going to bed too?"

"I'm finishing up the emails."

"Do you know how?"

"Who do you think taught Pepper how to organize my emails?"

"Right," I muttered. "Goodnight."

I climbed the rest of the steps.


	14. Proof That Tony Stark Has A Heart

**A/N: **I know, I know: It's been a while since I updated. I took a little break, got stuck on writing about other things, took a month long hiatus, lost the chapter I had almost finished writing for this story when my computer crashed, and couldn't get back on the wagon. I'm still hesitant but I really want to get back to this so I'm gonna try…

* * *

"So he still has your laptop?"

Pepper nodded, looking stressed and anxious. "And he said he won't give it back unless I kiss him!"

"That's why you're worried?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well that's easy. Just close your eyes and pucker up. It'll be over before you know it. I'm sure he's had _plenty_ of experience."

"No, no, that's not it," she replied hurriedly. "And I'm sure of that too, but it's just that…well…" She looked to me as if I should understand.

I didn't, and I showed it with an expectant expression, waiting for her to get to the point.

Pepper sighed. "You don't get it, do you?"

"What should I be getting?"

"There isn't supposed to be that kind of relationship between the boss and the assistant. It's unheard of and _totally_ predictable. The whole thing would be weird and awkward for me personally. I really can't believe he texted me that…"

"_Oh_," I said exaggeratingly, understanding. "I see your point now. But it's not like you're in public. This house is big and secluded enough; the press can't get you here."

"I just can't do it. I'm still wound up from last night. I don't have to time to play these games with him."

"Alright, how about _I_ get your laptop for you?" I offered.

"That would be great," she said sincerely, easing her tense shoulders. "You don't know how much trouble you're saving me."

"I think I can guess just by looking at the difference in you between now and five seconds ago. Why don't you get some coffee? I set it up for you how you liked it."

"Really?" she asked, glancing at the coffee pot. "That's really sweet of you."

"It's only part of a large debt I owe to you for grabbing my breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday, among other things." I walked to the stairs. "I'll be right back."

Through the glass, I saw Tony with his back to me. He had a welding mask on and was using a blowtorch on whatever part of the suit he was working on, I couldn't tell. I spotted Pepper's laptop on his wrap-around desk.

_Well, that was easy_, I thought. _I'll just grab it and go. He won't even notice._

I put in the code quickly and opened the door slowly. Luckily, you couldn't here the _beep_ of the roar of the blowtorch.

I hadn't taken two small steps before—

"Miss Howard has arrived," Jarvis announced.

_I thought too soon_.

Tony shut off his blowtorch immediately, turned around and lifted the mask in one swift motion, his famous lopsided grin abroad his handsome face.

"Were you expecting me?" I asked.

"Obviously."

"Well whatever it is, make it quick. I need to get Pepper's laptop and deliver it to her A-SAP. She has an agenda to keep." I stared accusingly. "Thanks to you."

"If you stopped telling me what I already know you could a lot faster."

"Alright then. Spit it out!" I rushed, putting a larger emphasis with waving hand gestures.

He leaned back on the table as he took off his thick, fire-resistant gloves. "If you're down here you must have heard about the text right?"

"Yeah."

"And she was freaking out I assume?" he asked, smirking.

"She was a ball of nerves when she walked through the door."

"That means she won't be down here for the rest of the day at _least_."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you want her down here?"

"I'm gonna go on a test drive."

I stared. "You mean…you're gonna _fly_?"

"Yep."

"Out there?"

"Yep."

"Where _everyone_ can _see you_?"

"Why do you sound worried? That's Pepper's job."

"Because what do you think people are going to say and do when they see a metallic man flying against the nighttime sky? Do you ever think your actions through-?"

"Oh don't start nagging. Is Pepper extremely contagious today 'cause you caught _something_ from her personality."

"Just think for a second—"

"Uh no, I won't on this: I already did and I'm flying tonight, that's final. I don't care if you wanna be here or not but I was going to let you watch the feed from the helmet so you can see what I see as I fly. But, hey, your loss."

I grabbed Pepper's laptop and started toward the door, grumbling. "Alright, whatever."

As I was about to walk through the door, Tony asked, "You're gonna be here right?"

I rolled my eyes and pretended like I didn't care while mumbling, "Yeah…" No way would I miss out on this, and—unfortunately—he knows it way too well.

I closed the door behind me and walked up the steps before he could reply with some snide remark. When I glanced back, he was already back to work, blowtorch aflame and mask down.

I handed Pepper here laptop as she finished her last sip of coffee. "Thank you Cara. I can finally get my day started. Before I do…"

She stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen while saying, "I have to grab another cup. You make my own coffee better than me!"

"Oh, well I'm glad you like it!" I smiled at the praise.

Pepper walked to the door. "I probably won't see you for the rest of the day with all the things I need to get done so make sure Tony eats and gets you something too."

I laughed. "I'll make sure of that."

She waved in farewell and was gone.

For the rest of the day I relaxed in my room as Tony worked while sometimes emerging to get a snack. To my surprise, I found some chips and other stuff in the cabinets and kitchenette in his workshop. ("You actually have _food_!" "I'm not even gonna comment.") I expected him to get me when he was ready to really fly, but I was wrong.

The sun had set as I read through an engineering book Pepper had found for me that she thought I would like. I noted this in the back of my mind, subconsciously waiting for Tony to knock on my door to come down as I read about the specifics of engine intake. I would look up at the door, check the time, and skim over a few words that didn't end up sticking because I was so preoccupied with waiting for Tony. I repeated this cycle nine times before I strode out of my room, calling myself an idiot for thinking Tony would retrieve me himself or give me any recognition that he was flying right then.

I expected him to be gone when I came down the steps.

But he wasn't, thankfully.

"Where were you?" he asked, apparently ready to suit up. "Did you think I would come and get you?"

"No I just wanted to be punctual with my timing," I replied with a sarcastic tone and smile.

"I didn't give you a time to punctuate."

"Exactly."

He laughed. "I guess that means you're ready."

"Right on the money as usual Tony."

"My money or your money?"

I snorted. "Your money because it's a thousand times more than mine."

"How much do you have?"

As I opened my mouth to respond he cut me off: "My money's a million times more."

I could've said a bunch of rude remarks—and I wanted to—but they got all jumbled up at the tip of my tongue and I couldn't pick one, so I just shut my mouth in annoyed silence.

"Just sit at my desk and watch from there," he said, pointing vaguely to it. "Everything will be displayed on the monitors."

I sat right down and got comfortable, using the desk as a foot rest.

"Hey." Tony lifted my feet and dropped them on the ground. "No shoes on my desk."

"They're clean," I replied, replacing my feet on the desk. "I bet you put dirtier things on here, including your _own_ shoes."

He didn't say anything, which means I was probably right.

I smiled smugly.

Before I could wipe it off, he caught a glimpse of it, and he smirked instead. "Watch this."

He stepped up to a certain spot on the black grid and the floor moved aside as his metallic rocket boots came up, as while as robot with various pieces of the armor as they starting assembling them onto Tony.

After only a minute, Tony was suited up in the sweetest thing I'd ever seen.

He definitely had smirking rights at this point.

He turned to face me, a mask of the armor obscuring his face.

"Did you watch?" I heard him speak from behind the helmet.

"How could I not?" I replied, not even bothering to disguise my amazement.

I didn't need to see his face to know for a fact that he was smirking as he turned to face the tunnel that led out of his house.

"Jarvis are you there?" Tony asked.

"At your service, sir," Jarvis replied.

"Board all preferences from home interface."

"Will do, sir."

"Alright what do you say?"

"I have indeed been uploaded, sir. Online and ready."

"Can you start the virtual walk-around?"

"Imported references and collaborating virtual environment."

"Good, check on control surfaces."

"As you wish."

As soon as Jarvis replied, the suit's parts started moving and going back into place.

"Test complete," Jarvis reported. "Preparing to power down and begin diagnostics."

"Uh Jarvis? Do you not remember what I was talking about this morning? Do a weather and ATC check and start listening in on ground control. We're flying."

"Sir, there are sill terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight is—"

"Jarvis, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."

"Can't beat that logic," I added sarcastically, loud enough for him to hear.

He ignored me again.

"Ready?" he said to Jarvis. "In three, two, one."

Tony lifted off and blasted into the tunnel, disappearing in a flash.

I heard him on the monitors, ("Oooh yeah! Whooo!") and I could tell he was having a blast.

I watched him fly over the ocean and the city, the view absolutely fantastic. He zoomed in on some kid on a Ferris wheel licking an ice cream cone, looking right at him, and the boy licked the entire scoop of ice cream onto the ground as what appeared to be his sister stared agape.

Though I was still worried about Tony stopping traffic and causing accidents—though that wasn't exactly new—I had to laugh.

Then Tony said, "Alright let's see what this thing can do." And he shot start up, eyes on the moon.

"What's SR-71's record?"

"That altitude record for a fixed-wing flight is 85,000 feet, sir."

"Record needs to be broken. Come on!"

I saw on the monitors his stabilizers levels grow as he blasted off even faster towards outer space.

"Sir there is potentially fatal build-up of ice occurring," Jarvis reported as ice did start to cloud some of Tony's vision.

"Go higher," he said, determined.

_Oh my God, what is he doing?_ I cried in my head. _He's an idiot! He could die!_

Power levels were dropping dramatically until it hit zero. The system instantly broke down. The screen stated "Signal Lost".

"Tony!" I yelled at the monitors. "Jarvis try and get back online again!"

"I can't Miss Howard. The system is completely shut down."

"What?" I stared at the keyboard, wishing that the buttons could get the suit working again like a _real _computer. I felt completely helpless, an emotion I never enjoyed feeling.

_Oh Tony I hate your guts_, I thought angrily to myself.

Seconds later, the monitors announced "Signal Found" and showed Tony tumbling toward the Earth.

His rockets blasted back on right before he made a crater in the middle of a highway.

"Yeah!" Tony cried in triumph, laughing.

I fumed as he flew back to his mansion, stopping on the roof as he said, "Kill power."

I heard booms like thunder as Tony crashed through three floors and landed on his Shelby Cobra, making me jump out of my skin.

The fire extinguisher bot started spraying him with CO2.

He only sat there, covered in cement dust.

"Stop, stop," I told the robot as I approached Tony and it did.

I stood in front of him, wanting to insult him on his landing or tell him how stupid he was of almost letting himself die, but I swallowed my anger and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I crashed through three floors and landed on a car," he replied in a harsh tone. "Do you think I'm okay?"

"That's what I get for being concerned?" I cried, firing up again. "God Tony you're such an idiot! You almost died because you wanted to 'push the limit'! Where do you think that could've left me if you did?" I growled. "You are so _selfish_!"

I stomped out of the room and up the steps, leaving him to lie on his damaged vintage car.

As soon as I walked into my room, Jarvis said, "Mr. Stark wants you downstairs at this time."

"Tell him he can kiss my ass."

"Let me correct myself: Mr. Stark _orders_ you to be downstairs this minute."

"No! Tell him he can come upstairs and apologize to me first!"

"Yes, because I'm sure he will," Jarvis replied sarcastically.

I threw myself on my bed and stared at the ceiling, fuming.

I got a thought: I rolled over and grabbed my iPod from my nightstand, shoving the ear buds into my ears and turning the volume up so high so I couldn't hear my own thoughts as I continued to stare at the ceiling.

* * *

Tony put an ice pack on the bump on his head, slamming the refrigerator door.

Why was she so sensitive all of a sudden? And then she needs to be smartass too?

Well, she's related to him, so that's not exactly her fault.

But the whole sensitive thing was new. Pepper's like that sometimes too. Is that like a girl thing?

Tony groaned. Why couldn't his sister have had a boy? I'm sure that a nephew would have been a lot less complicated.

He walked past the brown paper-wrapped box Pepper had left for him a couple days ago, putting down his ice pack. He took his old coffee cup off and ripped it open to reveal his old arc reactor in a glass case, with an inscription around the arc reactor saying, "Proof that Tony Stark has a heart."

He looked at it for a moment and looked toward the stairs.

He sighed and walked up the steps.

* * *

I was pretty much calmed down as my music blared in my ears with my eyes shut.

Then I felt a hand on my leg and I jumped, my eyes shooting open to see Tony standing in front of me, a little taken aback at my reaction to his touch. I took my ear buds out.

"Sorry were you sleeping?" he asked.

"No, just focusing on the music because the ceiling bored me after a while."

"Look, I'm sorry about that whole thing downstairs. You probably had a heart attack when my suit shutdown."

"Close to it."

"Yeah, I only said what I said that way because, well how would you feel if you expected to land safely on a roof but end up crashing through your room, piano and a restored Cobra?"

"Not very happy," I admitted. "I was still fuming about how you almost dying and I had swallowed my anger to ask if you were alright when I could've insulted you, and then you use this rude tone with me? Um, I don't think so."

"Good we understand each other."

I sighed. "Yep."

He paused. "You know I'm not used to being responsible for someone else so you gotta cut me some slack on that okay?"

"I already cut you enough…but I'm generous enough to cut you some more—lucky for you."

"I'm feelin' the love Cara."

I laughed. "Good."

"I hope you know that I'm trying to make this easier for you."

"I know. And I appreciate it. You just gotta think more about not getting yourself killed and we'll be good."

"You think I'm not already?"

"Not with what I saw!"

"Good point."

"You might want to get fixing your suit now, don't you think?"

"Nah," he said, turning to leave. "I think I'm going to bed. I'm sore."

I laughed. "I bet. I'm turning in too."

"G'night."

"Night."

And the door closed behind him.

_Well, I didn't expect an apology so soon_, I thought. _I wonder what made him change his mind…_


	15. Promises

Finally, after months of being here, I slept until a teenager _should _be sleeping in till: Noon.

And it felt _wonderful_.

Of course, sleeping in that late makes me exceptionally lazy and stubborn to get out of bed, so I stayed in bed until one. That's when I finally made an effort to sit up. It took a few more minutes to actually stand, but eventually I was able to drag myself to the bathroom and take one the longest showers ever. Thank goodness I don't have to worry about the water bill.

I walked out of my room at a little after three, heading towards the basement. As I was walking I realized how hungry I was and hoped there was still some food left for me from breakfast.

My wish was granted as I saw a Dunkin' Donuts bag on the coffee table in the living room. I snatched it and read the sticky note on it: "Mocha Coolatta is in the fridge."

"Yes!" I cried happily and ran to the fridge, instantly sipping delicious chocolaty caffeine-filled goodness. I haven't had one in _ages_.

Giving myself brain freeze on the way downstairs, I walked into the workshop with leisure as I headed for the couch.

From his desk, Tony said, "I was about to check on you to make sure you didn't die in your sleep."

"Good morning—I mean good afternoon," I replied, in too good of a mood to respond sarcastically or snidely. I sat right down on the couch, stretching out my legs as I continued to sip my frozen coffee.

Tony looked over. "So you sleep for half the day and just move from one room to the next because it looks like you're making yourself really comfortable over there."

"I'm eating."

"Horizontally?"

"My torso is vertical and that's all that matters when I'm eating."

"You know, people usually drink coffee in the morning before they have to work, and it's hot when they drink it."

"I don't like hot coffee," I said.

He stared. "You don't like hot coffee, but you like coffee Slushees."

"Yeah. I don't like hot tea either but I love iced tea. Peach is my favorite."

"That's weird."

"I'm related to you. I kinda have to be." I took a bite of my apple fritter and frowned. "Darn, the apples are cold."

"Were you really expecting them to be warm from eight o' clock?"

"One can hope."

"Try and hope for something less physically impossible."

After sipping my Coolatta, I said, "That I won't get brain freeze ever again."

"There's one."

"I've tried that tongue-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth-trick. It doesn't work for me."

"Really? I did it once when I was like twelve and I never had it again."

I looked at him. "How?"

He shrugged. "Guess you need another hope then."

"You're crushing a lot of my hopes right now."

"I bet I built more than half of them with you being in my house alone."

"Those only make up like a tenth of my hopes," I said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"How many do you have?"

"I don't know. A lot."

"If you asked me—"

"Which I didn't," I interrupted.

He ignored my interruption and continued as if I didn't. "—I wouldn't waste my free time thinking about hopes. They're pointless and 99.9% of the time never come true."

"Hope-crusher," I reminded.

He gave me a look. I smirked a little as I finished my drink.

"Is that an accurate percentage?" I asked.

"From my standards."

"Shouldn't you be judging from the general population's standards?"

"Like it matters," he said in an annoyed tone.

"You know, because your standards aren't very reliable."

"Can you just stop talking? You're getting on my nerves."

I hid a grin and said in an exaggeratingly offended tone, "Well!"

I saw him roll his eyes as he went back to work.

I giggled quietly into my apple fritter as I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

Tony didn't say anything as I channel surfed, so he was either too involved with his work or ignoring me entirely. I'll bet on the latter.

Time passed by quickly as I watched television, feeling extremely lazy but too happy to care that I had wasted the entire day sleeping and rotting my brain staring at an LCD screen. Tony continued to work until nighttime as I continued to flip channels:

"…Whole pressurization is problematic, I'm thinking icing is a probable factor."

"A very astute observation," Jarvis replied derisively. "Perhaps if you intend to visit other planets, we should improve the exosystems."

Tony went on as if Jarvis didn't respond. "Connect to the sys. co. Have it reconfigure the shell metals. Use the gold titanium alloy from the seraphim tactical satellite. That should ensure a fuselage integrity while maintaining power-to-weight ratio. Got it?"

"Yes. Shall I render using proposed specifications?"

"Thrill me," Tony said as I stopped on a pop culture news channel showing a blonde newswoman talking in front of a silver metallic wall that I recall seeing on the way to this house.

"…The red hot, red carpet is right here at the Disney Concert Hall, where Tony Stark's 3rd Annual Benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund has become the place to be—"

I heard Tony say behind me, "Jarvis, did I get an invite for that?"

"I have no record of an invitation sir."

_But it's your benefit isn't it? _I wanted to say but my attention was caught by the newswoman's words.

"…Tony Stark hasn't been seen in public since that bizarre and highly controversial press conference. Some claim he's suffering from posttraumatic stress and has been bed-ridden for weeks. Whatever the case may be, no one expects an appearance from him tonight."

_Who writes this stuff?_ I thought incredulously.

"The render is complete," Jarvis reported.

"A little ostentatious, don't you think?"

I glanced back to see on the monitors the armor that looked solid gold.

"What was thinking?" Jarvis said. "You're usually so discreet."

I snorted at that. "Gold, Tony? That's a little much, even by your standards."

He wasn't listening but looking thoughtfully on his restored '20s hot rod.

"Tell you what," he said to Jarvis. "Throw a little hot rod red in there."

"Yes, that should help you keep a low profile," Jarvis commented as he added some red to the gold, which turned out looking pretty cool. "The render is complete."

"Yeah I like it fabricated. Paint it."

"Commencing automated assembly. Estimated completion time is five hours."

"Don't wait up for me, honey," Tony said to Jarvis, and I heard a clank of car keys.

I turned and asked, "You gonna prove them wrong?"

"You know it."

"Good, 'cause those 'claims' are completely bogus."

I heard him chuckle. "_Bogus,_ Cara? Really, what era are you from?"

I gave him a look that said, "Do you really need to make fun of what say?"

As he walked past the couch he said, "Heads up."

I barely caught his car keys in surprise and stared at him questionably.

"Wanna start the car for me?"

"Seriously?" I laughed. "Which one?"

"The R8."

"Is that the one you prefer?"

"Yeah. If you ever get to drive it you'd see why."

"You know you just gave me a hope, right?"

"A false one. I said 'if.'" But he didn't say it with much certainty, which made me grin at the thought of driving his Audi. "I need to get dressed."

"Make sure it's a show-stopper," I called as he opened the door.

He gave a short laugh. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

"Right," I said with a smile. "You're a natural at that!"

"Make sure you don't touch the gas pedal."

"Oh you just read my mind," I said jokingly.

And with that he was up the steps.

I looked at his keys in my hand as I walked over to his much-esteemed R8. I opened the door, knowing he didn't lock it. There was no point in doing so anyway.

I sat down in the leather seat, glancing around at the luxurious but clearly sporty and built-for-speed interior. I could already see why this was his favorite.

I found the key with the Audi logo and put it in the ignition, hearing the supercharged engine roar to life.

The sound was _incredible_. It was like sweet heavenly music to my undeserving ears.

I felt the leather-covered steering wheel and set my foot on the pedal, just to get a taste of how it must feel to drive such a masterpiece of metal.

Despite what Tony said, I made sure the car wasn't in drive and tapped my foot on the gas pedal, listening for the angelic but (speed) demonic roar of the engine.

I grinned as I heard it reach my ears.

I quickly glanced at the stairs: He wasn't coming down yet.

I turned back and watched the RPM meter go up as I pressed harder on the gas and the engine got louder.

I released it with a sigh of amazement and a wide grin on my face. _God! That is such a nice sound!_

I reluctantly got out as I saw Tony coming down the steps a couple minutes later in a tuxedo. And—I would _never_ admit this—he looked incredibly handsome and—forgive the pun—like a million (in this case 'billion') bucks.

I raised my eyebrows as he walked in casually. "Wow. I didn't think you could clean up that nicely."

"Don't sound so surprised." Tony looked at me knowingly. "I heard you."

I gave a quick lopsided smile. "Guilty."

"Couldn't resist, huh?"

"My willpower crumbled."

He turned and walked backwards to his car as he said, "Hey, how old are you?"

"Fourteen. I'll be fifteen in August. Why?"

"Oh just wondering," he said vaguely as he turned back to open his car door.

"Hey!" I called.

He looked back.

"Make a good entrance for me, okay?" I pointed to the TV. "I'll be watching."

"I will anyway," Tony said before giving his famous lopsided grin and shutting the door. He instantly hit the gas and sped off down the tunnel, making sure the tires burned out and squealed in his pursuit.

* * *

All that really happened afterwards was me getting an apple from the kitchenette fridge (I felt like I needed _something_ healthy), and watch the channel that immediately changed to some totally different topic and surprisingly didn't show Tony's entrance.

After I was absolutely sure they weren't going to bring the benefit up again, I walked back up to my room to watch TV up there, but I changed my mind after I sat on my bed to go to sleep. Tony could tell me about how it went in the morning.

"Lights," I mumbled to my pillow, and they shut off as I drifting to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

"Lights, Jarvis," I heard through my unconsciousness.

The black in my eyelids lightened as the lights turned on.

I groaned and asked with my eyes still shut as it hurt to attempt to open them, "Oh what is it Tony?"

"Obie allowed a shipment of the Jericho to go to Afghanistan."

I finally was able to open my eyes and replied groggily, "Really? That crazy dangerous missile that splits itself up and stuff?"

He sat on my bed and I could see the anger in his eyes. "Yeah, and they sent it to the very people who held me hostage to make it."

"Wow. To go to all that trouble and end up just getting it mailed to you. That's gotta hurt," I said to Tony.

"Can you hold it on trying to be funny? This is serious."

"Look, I'm half asleep. My mind isn't exactly on high alert right now."

He sighed. "Fine. I just came up here to say that I'm going to Afghanistan tomorrow."

I stared. "On a plane?"

"No. In the suit."

I hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Cara, I gotta destroy those weapons before they do more harm."

As I grew more conscious, I realized what he was telling me. "Tony, we agreed that you wouldn't try to get yourself killed!"

"Yeah, I know—"

"You should've just not told me about it and locked my door for the duration of you flying across the ocean and going against gunfire so I wouldn't be sick with worry."

"But I need you to watch the monitors in case something goes wrong."

"Can't Pepper—"

"No," he said almost immediately with absolute finality.

"Right," I muttered. "I—I don't know if I _can_…"

"The chances of something going too wrong are unlikely."

"How unlikely?"

"Unlikely enough."

"You're being vague again, which isn't helping."

"I would feel better if you were at the monitors."

I didn't answer as his eyes bored into mine, making me look down and sigh. Finally I said, "Fine."

"I won't be flying until nightfall so it'll be light in Afghanistan when I go over there."

"'Kay," was my only reply.

"Hey, look at me."

I did, but reluctantly.

"I know I'm asking a lot from you. But I feel like this is what I have to do. I put those people in danger and I need to fix the problem. Have you ever had that feeling where you know you should be doing something and when you try to think otherwise, you answer immediately 'no'?"

I nodded slowly.

"I know that means I need to do this, even though it's not necessarily smart."

"You got that right," I said, but added. "But you feel it's the _right _thing to do, right?"

"Exactly."

I paused. "My mom said that it's better to follow your heart than your mind, because even though your mind's telling you what's best for you and your needs, your heart is telling you what's best for others and your conscience. Like how my mom taking the ride my dad offered to her was a decision made by her heart. It wasn't smart of her to leave college, but she said it felt right getting on that motorcycle with him, despite how she was practically abandoning her future."

"And look what happened," he said softly.

"Yeah, he left her after finding out she was pregnant, leaving her to raise a baby on her own."

"No." I looked at him. "You happened."

I got his meaning and blushed. "Oh."

"So I can blast off without your objections?"

I nodded with a small smile. "Yeah."

He got up and walked to the door.

A thought came to me. "Wait, Tony," I called.

He turned.

"Can you promise you won't let yourself get killed?...Please?"

He paused, and I thought he was going to say "no."

Then he looked up. "I promise."

I let out a deep breath and smiled sincerely. "Thanks."

He gave a small smile back and nodded. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I'll be holding you to it."

He gave a short laugh before the door shut behind him.

"Lights please," I told Jarvis.

"Finally, some manners," Jarvis replied as the lights shut themselves off again, and I fell asleep once more, not exactly as peaceful as before though, thanks to Tony.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey you guys and gals, writers and readers alike, there's another chapter for you that was somewhat delayed. Yeah, sorry about that. I would type some excuses but they seem like pathetic ones when I try to write 'em down, so I won't even attempt to. I promise I'll get another one out sooner, I've just been working on other stories, reading, and participating in the event called my life not as often as I'd like to.

But I'd like to thank the reviewers at this point! Thanks for taking the time to write something down for me to read so it makes my day! Really, it does. :) You guys receive my undying gratitude, along with the favoriters, alerters, and just regular readers. :) Thanks again.

~Annabeth Snicket


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